


the one that makes me go all night long

by lolohannah



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (and other things I don't want to spoil), Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Post-6a, Pre-6b, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:23:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolohannah/pseuds/lolohannah
Summary: After the Ghost Riders leave Beacon Hills, Stiles and Lydia finally get the chance to just be together and enjoy it. They decide to create a playlist of songs they associate with pivotal moments in their relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by ‘Play That Song’ by Train, which just coincidentally came on in the background in the early days of writing this fic and made me laugh. 
> 
> So I love canon compliant fic, like a ridiculous amount. If you like canon compliant fic, I really really hope you like this one. It's fluffy, it's a little bit tipsy, and Stiles and Lydia get it on a lot. A lot, a lot. You'll find the bare minimum amount of angst here (because these kids have been through too much, they must be protected). 
> 
> I have to send my eternal gratitude to [Rachel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl8/) who fixed this baby up and gave me amazing advice. She inspires me so much, and this fic wouldn't be written without her.
> 
> The playlist that goes along with this fic is available [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1112204469/playlist/4tNzzYmMy9A0MNotx0bvmk).
> 
> There's a Pinterest board I've created with images associated with the fic [here](http://pin.it/n1LlJxO). Including Lydia's dress for the party and a certain something described at the end.

 

Breathing – Lifehouse

_Take a breath and hold on tight_

_Spin around one more time_

_And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace_

 

_‘Cause I am hanging on every word you say_

_And even if you don’t wanna speak tonight_

_That’s alright, alright with me_

 

 

 

When the ground stops shaking, when the Wild Hunt has left Beacon Hills, life finally starts moving again. 

Stiles smiles at Lydia in relief as she presents his car keys to him. He wraps his hand around hers clumsily as he takes them, reminded of his fumbling when all he wanted to do was escape with the beautiful redhead in front of him before it was too late. The feel of her hand against his gives him a sharp jolt, like he’s been shocked back to life. A life he thought he might never have again.

He makes his way back to his house in the jeep with Lydia solidly in the passenger seat. She is completely unwilling to let him out of her sight, so apparently she’s coming home with him. The Sheriff heads to the station to see if his deputies have reemerged, promising to be home soon, and Lydia calls her mother to make sure she’s okay and to tell her that she’s staying with Stiles. The declaration earns a small but tired smile from him as he navigates the streets. 

When they arrive at the house and exit the jeep, they mutually reach for each other’s hands and hold on as they walk up to Stiles’ front door. They don’t let go when they get inside and Stiles pulls Lydia gently through the house to his room, the room that Lydia notices looks exactly as he left it, not dark and empty like it had been while he was gone. She lets out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks, breaking the silence they’ve been in since the car ride.

Lydia pulls him towards her with their still connected hands, and lifts herself up onto her toes so she can wrap her arms around his shoulders and envelop him in a long embrace. She can feel the warmth of his skin against her cheek, the cloth of his flannel under her arms and chin, and he’s real, he’s back and standing in his room as if nothing’s changed. Lydia lets out another long, shuddering breath. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Stiles responds as he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her in return, burying his face in her hair just like he’d done earlier that night when they were first reunited.

Eventually they’re able to pull themselves away from each other and Stiles leads Lydia over to sit down on the bed. “I’m gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll be back okay?” He waits for her nod in response before kissing her gently on the forehead as he leaves.

It’s the first time Lydia’s been without him since she found him in the locker room, and she begins to feel cold now that she’s alone. This room felt so comfortable before Stiles was taken, even when they were distant she knew she was safe here. Now that she’s seen what it looks like empty and bare and without him, it’s almost like she’s being haunted, like this is a dream made to trick her. Despite being able to hear the water running in the distance, the house and the Stiles’ room in particular are too quiet for her, so she pushes herself off his bed and wanders around the room. Lydia lightly brushes her fingertips against random objects on Stiles’ desk and walks over to his crime board, staring at the array of pictures and information pinned up. It settles her slightly to see little pieces of Stiles back where they belong, just like he’s back where he belongs.

It’s still too quiet for her though, so she moves around to sit at his desk, turns his computer on and searches for a song she favors when her brain gets too loud, particularly when the voices in her head overwhelm her. Lydia makes sure the volume stays low because it feels like if she breaks the silence too abruptly something else is going to break— she’d place a bet on herself.

Lydia feels restless as much as she does emotionally and physically exhausted. She slips her boots off near his bedroom door and ambles into the Stilinski kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring herself some water. She gulps it down quickly, unaware of how thirsty she’d been until she’d quenched the need. She’d done her fair share of screaming tonight and her throat feels raw, like she can feel all the individual nerve endings prickling from the strain. Finishing her drink, she puts the glass down with a clink and rests her palms on the counter, now breathing shallowly, almost gasping, as the events of the last three months and tonight catch up with her once she can finally slow down. She doesn’t know how long she stands there just trying to mentally reposition herself in her life.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Stiles whispers as he grasps her upper arms gently, grounding her; she hadn’t even heard him approaching. “I’m here. You’re okay, Lydia.” Stiles rests his cheek on the side of her head as he moves to wrap his arms around her completely, engulfing her.

Lydia collapses against him, knowing he’ll support her. Slowly her breathing begins to steady, her hand coming up to hold onto his arm, similarly to when they were hiding in Eichen House at the start of the school year. This time however, his embrace is comforting rather than born out of fear and the need to fiercely protect in the face of imminent danger. It feels like this is what it should be for them. _Safe_.

The way they were around each other changed after Allison, what was a delicate and rapidly growing connection ran cold. She felt lonely in her grief. The boy she’d been slowly developing feelings for was spending all of his time with a new girl who was funny, and brave, and tough. And Lydia felt like none of those things. She felt broken. He would touch her with caution, like he might shatter her if he pressed too hard. It just made her feel more alone, like a brittle porcelain doll that had been left on a shelf to acquire dust.

When she was lying in a pool of her own blood on the Sheriff’s station floor, looking up into the terrified eyes of the boy she couldn’t admit that she loved, something inside her settled. _If you die, I will literally go out of my freakin’ mind._ He hadn’t completely left her behind. He wouldn’t even leave her in Eichen House when she told him he would die if he stayed. Maybe he’ll never leave her again if she’s lucky.

“Okay, let’s go back to my room. We need to rest,” Stiles says after a couple of minutes of them just holding each other, their breaths synchronizing. He releases her from his hold but takes one of her hands, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before he guides them through the house.

Lydia lies down on top of Stiles’ bed, reclining slowly, feeling it dip to accommodate her. She may have been in his room many times but things have changed. Her presence in his room feels different now, because their relationship has new connotations, there’s been an unveiling, and their mutual love has been declared in no uncertain terms. Stiles lies next to her on his stomach further down the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he stares down at her intently.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess. You’re the one that’s been trapped, the one that had to make it through the rift to get back to us, I should be the one taking care of you,” Lydia speaks softly, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek gently with her thumb, as if he’s a ghost that’s going to disappear if she presses too hard or holds on too tight.

Stiles shakes his head imperceptibly, “Lydia, we’re both exhausted. Yes, I’m the one that had to make it back, but to me it feels like I’ve only been gone a few days. Scott told me I’ve been gone for three months. I can’t imagine what you guys have been through, how hard this was for you. You don’t have to apologize for being emotional.”

She smiles weakly, her eyes glistening a little, “I’ll catch you up tomorrow. Do you think we could just go to sleep now?”

“Yeah,” Stiles affirms, and then looks a little unsure of himself before asking, “Do you mind if I just…?” and he lays his head high up on her stomach, holding onto her hip lightly with one hand.

Letting out a deep breath, Lydia replies, her voice thick with emotion, “Yeah, yeah that’s good.” She brings her hand to his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, and runs her hand over his scalp lovingly as they both drift off.

 

\--

 

 

Anymore of This – Mindy Smith & Matthew Perryman Jones

_Locked inside the glass_

_An empty box of memories_

_And a heart full of regret_

 

_I don’t wanna miss_

_I don’t wanna miss anymore of this_

_Letting go I wanna feel all of it_

_I’m hanging on every word you say_

 

Their bodies are curled towards each other as they lay together on Lydia’s bed, basking in the afternoon light. The hem of Stiles’ shirt has been nudged upwards as Lydia’s fingers trace patterns and words on his hip; she keeps coming back to the same motif, her fingertips cursively writing ‘Love you’ over and over again. He may have told her she didn’t need to say it back, but she was going to tell him in every way she possibly could to convey what this means to her, what _he_ means to her.

“Y’know, this is all incredibly romantic, but you’re starting to tickle me,” he says with humor as he nuzzles his nose alongside Lydia’s and makes eye contact with her.

“Don’t care,” Lydia murmurs.

Stiles couldn’t help but take note of the lyrics being sung softly in the background of their peaceful afternoon together, “Lydia, you don’t have anything to prove.”

She pauses, taking in his words before confessing, “It feels a little like I do. You were so vocal about how you felt, and I…I couldn’t say it before. I couldn’t be honest with you.” She speaks in a quiet voice, an air of melancholy surrounding her. “It nearly broke me to think that you might not make it back, and that you’d never know I felt the same way.”

Stiles kisses her slowly, trying to calm the somber thoughts in her head as well as pouring into it the love he feels for her. “Lydia,” he whispers, “we’re here now, together. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I love you and you love me. Any time you think we wasted was just ...what we had to go through to get to this place.”

She nods and leans forward to press a kiss to his shoulder and tucks her face into his neck and he brings a hand up to the back of her head, rubbing his fingers against her scalp to soothe her. He loves her mind, it’s one of his favorite parts of her, but sometimes he just wants to quiet it to save her unnecessary turmoil.

“What’s with the music by the way?” Stiles questions, he’s curious because she keeps playing it when they’re alone together.

Lydia moves away from his neck and repositions herself so that she’s laying on her back besides him. “There are several reasons,” she pauses before taking a deep breath, “I started using music as a coping mechanism when my powers were becoming more prominent. It helps drown out the voices. I have more control over my powers now, but it’s a habit that stuck,” this was her easiest explanation, the least emotional of them. Lydia takes one of Stiles’ hands and intertwines their fingers, resting them over her heart.

“I listen to these songs and think about you. Both while you were gone and before…before you were taken…” Lydia trails off, not knowing what else to say.

“You have a playlist of songs about me?” Stiles says in awe, surprised by this new information.

“About you, about me, about…how you make me feel.” Lydia exhales, preparing to explain herself. “There are studies that suggest music can trigger memories, it can make them more prominent in our minds and make us remember more details, and…I want to remember everything about us Stiles. That’s why I play music in the background.” She closes her eyes at this point, the vulnerability of the moment getting to her.

“Like that time in English when we were studying _Othello_ and I broke out into _Mr Brightside,”_ he reminisces, purposely trying to make Lydia smile. It works.

“Sure, like that,” Lydia affirms sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, don’t knock it. The whole class did really well on that test, and I’m positive it was because of the correlation I made to the song,” Stiles boasts smugly. “ _Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis!”,_ he sings out a little too loudly.

Lydia laughs, “Yes, I’ll admit, it made a difference. But I don’t think you needed to write about the similarities between Eric Roberts in the music video and Iago.” Lydia’s mood has brightened substantially from the scholastic distraction Stiles has prompted, and he gives himself a mental high five for cheering her up.

Stiles moves closer, lightly kissing first one eyelid, then the other, “The playlist thing though, that’s amazing. Can we share it? Can I add music to it too?”

Lydia’s eyelids flutter open as she looks over at him, a warm glow radiating from her. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like it to be ours,” she responds quietly, untwining their hands so she can bring hers up to either side of his face as she kisses him, encompassing them in the emotion of the moment. She feels an overwhelming sense of calm that this boy, this young man, is hers, and he understands her more than she could ever hope someone would.

 

\--

 

 

Kiss Me – Ed Sheeran

_Settle down with me_

_And I’ll be your safety_

_You’ll be my lady_

 

_I was made to keep your body warm_

_But I’m cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms_

 

Lydia was studying with Stiles, helping him catch up on the tremendous workload he’d missed while he’d been gone, when his dad had called him to come down to the station. He kissed Lydia on the cheek with the promise to return soon, calling up Scott as he left to ask him to meet him and his dad to check out whether it was supernaturally inclined.

It had taken a lot longer than Stiles had thought it would, and he was arriving back at his house wondering whether Lydia would have left to go home when he hadn’t come back. Walking into the dim room, Stiles could make out Lydia’s figure sleeping peacefully in his bed, music still faintly playing in the background. After kicking off his shoes and approaching the bed, he slips under the covers and reaches out to wrap his arm around Lydia. It was then he realized she wasn’t wearing what she’d arrived in earlier that evening when they were studying, no, she was now wearing his lacrosse jersey, and from the looks of it, not much else.

Lydia stirs when the bed dips under the additional weight, eyes blinking open in the darkness, recognizing Stiles in the moonlight shining through his window, “Hey, you’re back.”

“I’m back. Sorry it took so long. We determined it as a non-supernatural incident though,” Stiles says running his hand up and down her back comfortingly.

“That’s good.” Lydia smiles, nuzzling her head against the pillow as she looks over at him, content.

“You know what else is good? You sleeping in my jersey,” Stiles teases, raising his eyebrows and tugging on the material.

She laughs lightly, “You like that, do you?”

“Oh, you have no idea how much I like that, Lydia,” his tone turns sensual as he pulls her towards him so she’s pressed up against the length of his body. Stiles kisses her ravenously, sucking on her lower lip.

Lydia moans from both the kiss and the feel of his body against hers, aware of the fact that he’s beginning to harden. It’s intoxicating, the heady feeling of his kiss combined with the knowledge that she’s turning him on. She breaks away from him, gasping slightly as he moves to suck kisses into her neck, “I thought we were waiting for our date on Saturday,” Lydia objects unconvincingly— they had a plan, but she wasn’t going to force them to stick to it.

Stiles pulls off of her neck after a few more light kisses, mustering the willpower to drag himself away. “When has anything about us ever gone to plan?”

“What about your ten year plan?” she suggests, and giggles upon seeing the look on Stiles’ face when he draws back to look at her.

“Scott?” he asks, already knowing the answer and cursing. “You didn’t need to know about that.”

“It’s cute, and it worked. Your plans do work sometimes Stiles,” she teases, caressing his nose with hers before kissing him sweetly.

Stiles grumbles, offended, “My plans work way more than sometimes, Lydia. Or at least Plan B does.”

“So maybe Plan B is that we have sex now rather than on Saturday?” Lydia smiles coquettishly.

Stiles smirks back, trailing his hands down to Lydia’s ass, realizing she’s only wearing underwear with his jersey, her legs are blissfully bare, the soft skin tantalizing. “I don’t see why it has to be an either/or situation, I think both now and on Saturday is a much more productive solution.”

Lydia’s eyes light up, and she reaches her hands out to the hem of Stiles’ shirt, maneuvering them so she can tug it off. “Now that’s why I love you, _so_ good at figuring things out.”

Stiles takes hold of the shirt when Lydia’s gotten it over his head, aiming his throw towards a chair across the room. He misses and it lands on the floor. “Dammit,” he groans, and Lydia laughs again. She leans forward and lays light kisses on his jaw as he attempts to get out of his pants quickly. He gets the leg stuck on his right foot and dives under the covers to try and get a better look at it, obviously failing as it’s almost completely dark even without the added hindrance of an opaque blanket on top of him, and he curses again. Lydia’s got one hand over her mouth trying to stem the full-on cackle that’s being induced by Stiles flailing around attempting to remove his clothes.

Once he makes it back up to her sans pants and smiling bashfully, she grips his shoulder and brings his mouth to hers, their tongues melding together in a heated exchange. She keeps accidentally breaking the kiss because she can’t stop smiling. Lydia feels so incredibly happy and in love and she knows intrinsically that this is how Allison felt with Scott, this feeling is what she was talking about all those years ago. With her arms now wrapped around Stiles’ neck, she sinks onto her back, pulling him on top of her and they both moan in appreciation at the new position.

Stiles leaves her mouth to kiss her cheek and returns his focus to her neck once again; with an exhale, she tilts her head to allow him better access as he sucks an almost bruising kiss into the sensitive skin right below her ear. Lydia moves her hands down to the edge of his jersey ready to remove it when Stiles makes a small noise of objection and his hands move from the bed beside her to press into her body, slowly travelling down from the sides of her breasts all the way down to meet her hands. “Leave it on,” he whispers huskily into her ear and Lydia shudders, her eyes falling closed as she nods her assent.

Lydia inhales sharply when Stiles finds a particular spot on her neck that makes a strong shock of arousal course through her body, and she brings one of her hands up to the back of his head to keep him there. He sucks harder as his hands move under the jersey to brush along her soft skin and his fingers run along the edge of her panties, toying with them, and by extension her.

“Stiles…I need…” Lydia is at a loss of what to say, stumbling through the words as all of her nerves burn with energy and anticipation.

He rests his forehead against her collarbone, panting slightly. “Yes?” he prompts.

“I need you to touch me,” she says resolutely, running one of her hands along his shoulder blades, his skin warm to the touch.

Stiles lifts himself up to bring them face to face and their eyes lock. He places his index finger on her lips, and she can’t help but press a light kiss to it; they can both feel the tantalizing thrumming of arousal between them. He slowly trails the finger away from her lips, down her neck, across her collarbone, and into the crevice between her still-covered breasts. “I’m working on it.”

Lydia realizes then that this isn’t going to be fast. He’s planning on taking his time. She’s suddenly very thankful that the Sheriff is on a night shift if Stiles’ behavior is any indication of how things are going to proceed.

Stiles kneels back on the bed, the blanket bunched at the foot of it leaving them uncovered. He moves his hand languidly down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, and he rubs his finger comfortingly against her wrist before picking up her hand and bringing it up to his lips. Lydia can’t take her eyes off him, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Stiles sucks two of Lydia’s fingers into his mouth. She gasps as he runs his tongue between them, forcing them to separate in his warm mouth. He quirks an eyebrow up like a challenge.

“God damn your oral fixation, Stiles.” Lydia says breathlessly.

He sucks at her fingers with intent, scraping his teeth lightly against the pads of her fingertips before obscenely popping them out of his mouth, the smirk returning, “You’re welcome in advance.”

Stiles lets go of Lydia’s hand and runs his palms firmly from her silky thighs up to her waist, his thumbs pressing into her rib cage as he grips and drags her towards him, her head leaving the pillows behind. Lydia’s lower body rises off the bed with her legs splaying either side of Stiles’ hips as her core, still covered by her panties, is forcefully pressed against his hard cock, enclosed within his boxer briefs. Lydia squeaks, raising one of her hands up to push her hair out of her face, tugging on it slightly as she exhales shakily. Every movement he makes is wrecking her, unraveling her like a ball of string. “You’re killing me,” she murmurs.

Stiles groans as he bends forward, moving his left arm underneath Lydia’s neck to prop her up now that her head is flat on the mattress, while his right trails down to clutch one ass cheek. He moves her lower body gently so they’re almost grinding against each other. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against her lips before capturing them in a deep kiss, cutting off Lydia mid-gasp.

She can feel his heartbeat thrumming through the arm he’s placed below her head and it brings her comfort, being able to feel the tangible hum of his life seeping into her skin. It’s almost like she can feel him in her bones. He’s everywhere. This intimacy is unlike anything she’s experienced before, and it feels like she’s going crazy from the energy of so many emotions buzzing through her veins.

After a few minutes, Stiles finally breaks away from her lips with a definite purpose. He sinks down, with Lydia making sure to keep her legs bracketed around his hips so he doesn’t stray too far, and determinedly reaches for his jersey and rucks it up to just above Lydia’s boobs. She’d rid herself of her bra hours ago, and Stiles blows out a harsh breath as he regards her body below him.

“I thought you wanted me to keep it on?” She can’t help but be amused at the conflicted expression on his face.

“Oh I do. But I’m also a ‘leave no stone unturned’ kind of guy. And there is no way I’m not paying these natural wonders of the world the attention they deserve,” Stiles, realizing what he just said, shakes his head but smiles anyway, his cheeks becoming slightly rosy.

Lydia lets out a hearty laugh, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Before he can get too embarrassed, Stiles dives forward and closes his mouth around the nipple of her left breast, cutting Lydia’s laughter off immediately. Her head is subconsciously thrown back against the mattress as she moans, her chest automatically rising towards his mouth and one of her hands comes to rest on the back of his head. He takes her right breast in his hand and fondles it, squeezing lightly and Lydia bites her lip again to stifle another moan. When he pinches her nipple and twiddles it slightly, she can’t help but cry out, arousal flooding her body. He’s playing her like an instrument and she suddenly wonders why he never tried to pick one up because his attention to little details is astounding. She bets he would make beautiful music.

He sucks at her nipple, causing her to tug firmly at his hair, before he veers down to nip slightly at the underside of her breast and Lydia’s heavy breathing is shockingly loud in the quiet of Stiles’ bedroom. He moves over to lavish her other breast with the attention of his mouth, but noting how worked up she already is, he places a hand on her chest near her heart in an attempt to calm her. While he works over her right breast, he looks up to gain eye contact with Lydia, silently checking if she’s okay. Lydia places her hand over his on her chest, accepting the support and tries to calm down. The last thing she wants him to do is stop because she’s borderline hyperventilating.

Stiles makes a decision, and once he’s finished the dutiful study of her bosom, he gently pushes the jersey the rest of the way off her body, throwing it across the room to join the rest of his clothes and brings his hand up to caress the side of her head. The new absence of fabric allows Lydia’s body temperature to lower a little in the night air, immediately letting her relax and get herself under control again. Lydia smiles softly at him as she pulls him down for a tender kiss.

“You doing okay?” he asks earnestly. Stiles intertwines their fingers and rests their joined hands beside her head, while his other hand moves down to rub at her hip comfortingly.

Lydia looks up into his eyes sincerely. “Yeah. It’s just…a lot.”

He pauses, considering, “Been a while?” Stiles has never been privy to the details of her sex life. He never saw it as his right to know. Even when they became closer friends there was always a weightiness to their relationship, tension that was perpetually present, romantic or otherwise. Lydia was free to do as she pleased with her body, Stiles was free to admire her from afar. It was a line they didn’t allow themselves to cross. Until the line faded away one night in his crappy old jeep when he couldn’t hold the words back anymore, right before he faded away too.

Lydia gulps. “Yes. But not just that.”

“Oh?” he asks.

Stiles needs her to tell him, and she’s quickly realizing that it’s becoming increasingly hard to deny him almost anything. The things she wouldn’t say before to anyone else, she _needs_ to say to him. “It’s never been like this. This much. This…intense.”

And her voice is like a beacon, drawing him in, so much so that he can’t help but plant a longing kiss on her cheek, moving his hand up to tenderly brush his fingers along her hairline and then sliding it down to embrace the side of her neck.

His lips travel to hers like they’re magnetic, and Lydia pours all of the emotion she’s feeling into the kiss; it’s like she can feel her heart cracking open under his diligent care.

Stiles breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against hers. He watches her and she stares back, waiting with bated breath for his next move. Firm and slow, his hand travels from her neck and glides down her body until he’s toying with the edge of her panties again. Stiles is still looking at her, waiting for her response, and she nods in affirmation, her gaze unwavering.

Immediately, after placing a quick peck on her lips, he descends. If this was a cartoon there’d be a cloud of dust from how fast he moves and all Lydia can do is blink, stupefied. He taps her thigh with his fingertip to draw her attention to his face so that they lock eyes again, and then he smiles too innocently for what’s about to happen. Stiles puts one hand on each side of her silky emerald underwear and slides them down her legs, kissing her lightly on the inside of her thigh as he does so. The damp spot is noticeable even in the moonlit room, and Lydia watches him drop them onto the floor, an excited grin on his face.

Stiles crouches down in front of Lydia, splaying her legs wide and he regards her like a puzzle he wants to solve. With the amount of foreplay she’s endured, Lydia feels like all he’d have to do is breathe on her the right way and she’d come. Stiles bares her open with his fingers and licks gently, testing the waters, but Lydia needs release now, and— if they want to get to the main event before sunrise— she needs to hurry this along.

“If you don’t put something inside of me right now, I’ll be forced to finish myself,” she quips, only half-serious.

“And while I would be grateful to receive such a show, I didn’t get you hot and bothered for someone else to finish what I started,” he returns, looking up from between her legs, shocking her when he abruptly pushes two fingers inside her without breaking eye contact. Lydia convulses, her upper body rising off the bed involuntarily.

“Oh god! Please keep going,” Lydia cries out, her hand fumbling for purchase, searching for something to hold onto. Stiles reaches up with his other hand and captures hers, threading their fingers together, before bringing them both to rest on her lower abdomen. Her other hand reaches back to grab a pillow; preparing to use it to stifle the noises she can’t help but release.

Stiles thrusts his fingers in and out of her, twisting them in search of the best angle, while his thumb comes up to rub at her clit. “Don’t,” Stiles urges her. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear every pretty sound out of that gorgeous mouth.”

Lydia looks at Stiles with wide eyes, moans pouring out of her open mouth as she nods and tosses the pillow to the side. Her eyes flutter shut as she writhes on the bed, her hips gyrating against Stiles’ hand. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Stiles abruptly nudges in a third finger and Lydia makes a choked off gasp, but before she can even properly react to it, Stiles removes his thumb and closes his mouth around her clit, sucking powerfully.

Lydia sees stars and lets out a breathy cry of “Stiles!” as her arm reaches up; palm slamming into the headboard noisily and her back arches so hard she almost sits up.

Stiles works her through her orgasm until she comes down and stops quivering, and waits for her to open her eyes. “You good?” he murmurs, moving the hand that was resting on her abdomen down to rub encouragingly at her thigh.

Lydia’s voice is slightly raspy when she responds, “Potentially broken.” Stiles laughs warmly and Lydia lifts a hand up to her mouth, giggling. She looks down at him, and now that he’s got her attention he lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean. Lydia’s eyes widen. “You are incredibly distracting, you know that? You haven’t gotten off yet but all I want you to do is put your mouth to work again,” she sighs.

“Ha. I wouldn’t be opposed,” Stiles grins, sitting up on his bed.

Lydia can see his hard cock straining against the fabric of his underwear, and it’s suddenly like she has tunnel vision. Now that her arousal has been temporarily satiated, she can focus her lust on a new goal: making him come.

Stiles spots the shift in her attention and reaches forward to clasp her hips, dragging her into his lap.

“Hi,” she smiles brightly, bringing her arms up to wind around his neck. “You know you’re deceptively strong?”

“Thanks, gotta have some force behind my bat-wielding.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m always the weakest person in the pack, but I like to think I’d be able to hold my own against another average human now.” Stiles speaks softly. Sitting here in the middle of the night with the girl of his dreams this close to him, he feels powerful. It’s not like with the Nogitsune or Donovan, but in a good way, like with Lydia by his side he can make it through anything. Every time she laughs because of him he feels a little less burdened.

“I’d like to hold myself against a not-so-average human right now,” Lydia purrs, moving in to press her lips to his alluringly.

She nudges her nose against his and he replies, “Any in particular?”

Lydia hums, trailing kisses down to his neck gently before she attacks; sucking on his neck so hard she’s sure to leave a mark and his body trembles in response. Stiles’ grip tightens on her hips and he groans deeply, “God, Lydia.”

She draws one hand slowly up from his neck, running it through his hair before she takes a firm grip and his breath hitches in the back of his throat in response. Lydia pulls away from his neck and returns to his face, her eyes connecting with Stiles’, which are hooded with arousal. “I want to fuck you,” she says, and she rocks into him slightly, her bare crotch rubbing against the material covering his cock.

Stiles’ arms wind around her waist, his palms resting on her back and this action pushes her closer to his chest. Her movements become fiercer, and she undulates up and down, her head pressed close to his. “Lydia,” he moans.

“Fuck me, Stiles,” Lydia murmurs demandingly in his ear, “Fuck me.”

Stiles tips them forward slowly, bringing Lydia back to the mattress again. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out a few times, trying to calm himself. When he reopens his eyes, Lydia is looking up at him in anticipation, and when she deliberately runs her tongue over her lips and then bites the bottom one, she’s the picture of seduction.

She reaches for his underwear at the same time he does, and he waits, letting her remove the last barrier between them. Lydia smiles up at him sweetly and then refocuses her attention, watching his cock spring free as she drags down Stiles’ briefs to his thighs. She reaches forward and wraps her hand around him, stroking up and down experimentally.

“If you want me to make it to the next part, I’d suggest stopping,” he says lightly, but with slightly gritted teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration. She lets go and her mouth twists into a sideways smile. Stiles fumbles slightly, pushing his underwear the rest of the way off, the final article of clothing cast to the pile on the floor.

He reaches into his nightstand for a condom, “Always come prepared,” he quips.

Lydia snorts, her boobs shaking with the force. “You were never a boy scout, Stiles.”

“No, but it’s a good lesson to adhere to,” he winks.

When he’s ready, he leans forward and rests his weight on his elbows, pressing his chest flush against Lydia’s and gives her a kiss. “Any particular way you want to do this?” he asks quietly.

“Any way you want to. You’ve proven so far tonight that you’ve got pretty sound instincts when it comes to pleasing me.” She traces her finger tenderly from his forehead and down his cheek before cupping his jaw.

His lips twitch up in a loving smile. Stiles shifts his weight to one arm and moves the other down. He grabs a hold of her thigh and urges her leg to bend so that her knee almost rests against the side of his ribs. Her other leg follows suit but turns at an angle, her heel coming to rest on his ass. Lydia exhales, she feels exposed and ready. Ready for him, ready for them. Ready to let him in.

Stiles takes his hand from her thigh and moves it between their bodies. He dips two fingers inside her to see if she’s prepared and makes a pleased noise at how wet and warm she is. Lydia drags his head down so she can kiss him deeply, and his fingers slip free. She’s so focused on the kiss that she’s not aware of him positioning himself until he’s slowly entering her. Her eyes fly open and she gasps. “Stiles! Give a girl some warning.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling slightly. His laugh jostles them and he sinks a little bit further into her, she moans in response. “How’re you doing?”

She blows out a quick breath. “Great,” she bites his earlobe between her teeth playfully, presses her heel into his ass and whispers, “you can move now.”

Stiles moves his hand to grab her ass, lifting her up and closer to him. He starts thrusting gently but at a steady pace and the new angle makes her brain short-circuit. Lydia is already biting back her moans and she reaches one hand up to grip his upper arm where he’s supporting himself beside her, she barely has the cognitive ability to not dig her nails in too hard and draw blood. Lydia’s aware that Stiles has always been able to read her better than anyone, but the way he can read her body feels like it should be impossible.

“Stiles. Harder.” Lydia chokes out the words because she can feel herself careening towards a precipice and goddammit does she want to fall.

The cogs turn in Stiles’ mind, “Lydia, put your arms around my neck,” he commands.

Lydia’s so far gone at this point that she’d probably do anything he asked; shakily, they twine around his neck, and her eyes fall shut in pleasure.

“Hold on,” is all the warning she gets before Stiles grabs her hips and pulls her tight against him. He moves to sit back on the bed in the same position they were in earlier and drags her with him so she lands in his lap, his cock deep inside her. Lydia’s eyes had opened in shock upon the dramatic movement but they quickly roll back into her head in pleasure. He begins sliding her back and forth and she cries out loudly, her voice echoing off of the walls in his bedroom. Finding purchase on his shoulders, Lydia begins to take over some of the workload, bouncing herself up and down on his cock.

Stiles mouths at her breasts as they bounce in time with her movements, his hands travel from her hips, along her ribcage, to wrap around her body. His fingers rest on her back and his thumbs rub circles into the sides of her boobs. He groans, “Lydia, I’m close.”

He’s just about to move his hand down to touch her clit when Lydia makes a choked-off noise, gasps and pushes herself closer to him. Her hands grip his shoulder blades, nails digging in and her head falls forward to rest in his neck as her body shakes. Lydia tightens around him, a litany of high-pitched moans barely muffled as they’re released against his collarbone, and she bites down slightly. Overwhelmed by the combination of pressure she’s applying to his neck, back, and around his dick, Stiles follows her over the edge, grabbing her ass in both hands as they ride out the shockwaves together.

When they finally come down, Lydia’s body still trembling slightly with aftershocks, she starts laughing and can’t seem to stop. Stiles grins, slowly edging her backwards to lie back on the bed and his softening cock slips out of her.

“Oh my god,” she says between breathless laughter, her hands on either side of her face like she wants to restrain herself but can’t. Her cheeks are rosy, a light sheen of perspiration on her skin. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Stiles laughs, his cheeks going red. “Yeah, I think if I stood up right now I might do a stellar Bambi impression.” He gives her a quick kiss on the lips and leans over his nightstand to dispose of the condom in the trash. Lydia holds onto his side so he doesn’t tip off the bed and land on the floor.

He settles back down next to her and brings the hand she’d used to steady him up to his lips to kiss her knuckles sweetly. He reaches down to the end of the bed, bringing the blanket back up to cover them both, the chill of the night air now sweeping over the cooling sweat on their bodies.

“Regained mobility yet?” he asks, resting his arm on her body, just below her boobs.

“Just about,” she hums. “Stiles, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

The corners of his mouth automatically curl up into a content but proud smile. “Lydia, I think that was the best sex anyone’s ever had,” he quips.

“Do you have the data to corroborate that?” she asks, amused.

“I’ll have my thesis to you by the end of the month,” he promises with faux seriousness.

Lydia smiles, “Much appreciated.”

Stiles chuckles lightly and rests his head against the top of hers, taking comfort in the exquisite natural sweetness of her scent.

As he runs his hand up and down her side absent-mindedly, Lydia realizes his fingers are brushing against her scars. It hits her that he doesn’t care, that they’re just a part of her to him, a symbol of what she’s been through. Stiles doesn’t find them ugly, and doesn’t find her any less attractive because of them, and something settles in her heart in a way it never has before.

Lydia looks over at him, raises her hand to his cheek and plants a long, loving kiss on his lips. She turns her back to him, and he pulls her towards him so her back is pressed to his chest. Stiles places his other arm on top of the pillow, and Lydia rests her head on top of it. His hand comes down to cover one of her breasts, holding it gently.

“You’re going to get a dead arm,” she says matter-of-factly.

Stiles places a kiss on the back of her neck, “It’s fine. There are worse ways for it to go.”

She places her hand over the one holding her breast, “But how would I live without these fingers? And you’ll never get the chance to fuck me against a wall.”

He groans at the mental image that creates, “Valid points. But I think it’ll survive.”

Lydia’s body relaxes more and she hums in acknowledgement. “‘kay, that’s good. Because I’m really comfortable right now.”

Stiles entwines one of his legs with hers. “Of course you would put the image of wall sex in my head and then promptly fall asleep.”

“An orgasm tends to do that to people, Stiles.” Lydia murmurs.

“Two orgasms,” he corrects.

“Of course, two mind-blowing orgasms. How could I forget?” she elaborates sarcastically and yawns.

“Huh. 10 points to Gryffindor.” Stiles says to himself.

“You’re a Slytherin. Now go to sleep Stiles.” Lydia urges before dozing off.

 

\--

 

 

I Dare You – The XX

_I need my feelings set on fire_

_Now I’m deep in it, infatuated_

_Strong attraction_

_Side by side, and I know that you want to_

 

_Go on, I dare you_

_Oh oh oh_

_I dare you_

 

In an effort to make the most out of there being no current monstrous villains trying to ruin their lives, plus the end of senior year rapidly approaching, the pack choose to spend an evening out at the local bowling alley. Lydia and Scott share a few nostalgic looks over the course of the evening, remembering their infamous double date with Jackson and Allison back in sophomore year, and how much their lives have changed since.

They’re playing in teams of two, Lydia & Stiles, Scott & Malia, Liam & Hayden and Mason & Corey. And they’re perfectly aware that this night could likely end in disaster even if there are no villains around, considering most of the teams consist of couples.

Malia is fond of bowling, but often gets frustrated when she uses too much aggression with the ball. Scott soon gets her on track when he teaches her to control her breathing and envision where she wants the ball to go instead of throwing it as hard as she can. She learns surprisingly quickly after that and her face lights up every time Scott looks at her proudly after each shot. She’s so focused on keeping that look on Scott’s face that she almost completely forgets to be competitive with the other teams.

Liam and Hayden spend more time arguing than they do conversing with the rest of the group. Liam’s lacrosse skills don’t seem to be translating very well and he tends to flail about, more often than not ending up with a gutter ball. Scott has a feeling it’s more likely due to performance anxiety from trying to impress Hayden than it is a lack of capability. He shakes his head; his beta is way too similar to him just over two years ago. Hayden’s good, but she goes between nitpicking Liam’s technique to making out with him whenever they’re not playing, and Stiles just rolls his eyes in exasperation every time they’re too busy swallowing each other’s tongues to realize it’s their turn. On more than one occasion he’s forced to stand in front of them, clapping his hands in front of their faces to break them out of their hormone-induced display, and he can’t help but mutter “kids” under his breath.

Mason and Corey are both lacking a competitive streak. They’re equally mediocre bowlers and they make lovey-dovey eyes at each other throughout the game but are still capable of laughing and joking with the rest of the pack in contrast to Liam and Hayden, who might as well be on their own date at this point.

Lydia’s no longer pretending to be bad for the sake of making her boyfriend feel better, instead Stiles’ eyes shine with pride every time Lydia gets a strike, and despite the fact that he’s not as good as her, together they’re a formidable team, competitive as they rack up the points. It’s not the only thing that’s racking up however, every round the sexual tension crackles between them, but they try to keep it simmering below the surface. Scott definitely senses it though, when the two are so busy eye-fucking each other that when Stiles gets up to take his shot, he trips and barely catches himself from falling flat on his face. Lydia laughs harder than Scott’s ever seen her, the waves of her hair rippling like a waterfall of lava, and he looks back and forth between the two of them and beams at how happy and in love his best friends look. Stiles takes his shot quickly, and definitely only knocks down four pins. It might as well be a strike as he strides up to Lydia, giving her a quick but definitely not chaste kiss before he sits down next to her and puts his arm around her seat, nudging her to curl towards his body.

When it comes to the last round, Scott, although he’s still not great at the game, is better than he was when he was sixteen. However, Stiles and Lydia are watching him with rapt attention, waiting to see if they’ll win and he just can’t take this away from them. He knows if he really focused he could pull off a spare, but they want it so badly, and it’ll put a damper on the evening if they lose to the ‘Wolfote’ team (dubbed by Stiles of course), so he throws the bowling ball and knocks down a singular pin.

Stiles flails a little before stumbling to his feet. Lydia jumps out of her chair, letting out a loud “Yes!” as she bounces up and down on the spot. She turns around to face Stiles and almost leaps into his arms, he’s quick to catch her, using the momentum to spin them around.

“We won!” Stiles exclaims, as he sets her back on her feet. Some of her hair falls into her face and Stiles reaches forward to brush it away tenderly, his hands coming up to rest on her cheeks as he gives her a slow congratulatory kiss, “You were amazing.” Breaking away, Lydia ducks her head, blushing a little when she realizes everyone’s watching them. “Sorry Scott,” Stiles adds in consolation.

Scott nods, “It’s fine. Well done Team Batshee.” (Stiles had cracked up when he named their team, a combination of Bat and Banshee that coincidentally almost sounded like ‘Batshit’. The rest of them had, of course, rolled their eyes in exasperation.)

Malia sidles up to Scott, “We did good though, right?” she asks quietly, a small smile on her face.

He puts his arm around her shoulder jovially, “We were great. You, in particular, were awesome.” And her smile widens, appreciatively.

“We make a good team,” she says turning to face him as she walks away backwards. She squeezes his hand a little, her eyes lingering on his before she leaves, offering to buy Lydia a congratulatory drink.

 

//

 

Lydia looks pensively at Malia, her milkshake forgotten as Malia downs a plate of fries at a speed that should be terrible for her digestion. “Malia?” Lydia blurts, and the other girl looks up to meet her eyes, noticing the seriousness. 

“Oh god, what’s wrong?” she replies worriedly, and then in a lower voice, “Is someone dying?”

Eyes widening, Lydia is quick to quash that concept, “No no no, nothing like that. I just…I wanted to talk." 

“You know I’m no good at that Lydia,” Malia says, brushing her off. She scoffs a few more fries into her mouth. Seeing that Lydia still has something she wants to say, Malia sighs, “Okay, fine, speak.”

Lydia exhales in relief, “You don’t have a problem with me being with Stiles right?” she asks, a note of apprehension in her voice.

Malia pauses for a moment. “No.” She looks over to Stiles and Scott playing a video game in the arcade, their faces wracked with concentration. “No, I’m happy for you both. He’s always had feelings for you. I knew that. It takes some getting used to, seeing you together, but we broke up ages ago. We’ve moved on.” She looks at Lydia, whose shoulders have begun to relax, and she smiles, finally taking a sip of her milkshake.

“You’ve moved on, huh?” Lydia raises an interrogative eyebrow.

“I mean…not, not technically like that. I slept with Nathan months ago…it was…whatever. I don’t know.” Malia looks down at her plate, clearly wishing there were more fries so she could avoid this conversation.

Lydia reaches a hand forward, placing it on top of Malia’s comfortingly. “It’s okay to have feelings, Malia. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Believe me,” Lydia smiles knowingly.

Malia shakes her head, “But Kira…”

Lydia cuts her off, “Is wonderful. And we love her. But while she may come back tomorrow, she may also not come back for years. We don’t know how long it’ll take for her to gain control, if her and Scott will even be in the same place when she does get back. If Scott is what you want, you deserve to have a conversation about it,” she nudges at Malia’s foot under the table with her own. “Maybe he’ll tell you he’s waiting for Kira,” and Malia nods, “or maybe, he might feel something for you too.”

Malia lets out a breath and grabs Lydia’s hand tightly in hers. “Thank you.”

 

//

 

The pack reunites from their separate activates to sit around a couple of booths and share pizza to round off the evening, the young foursome sat at one table and the seniors at another. It would’ve been a nice conclusion if not for Hayden and Liam, who are doing very little to converse with the group but instead are still sniping and bickering over their bowling loss, annoying everyone else in the process. Scott turns around to look at Liam, whose girlfriend’s voice is escalating to ‘creating-a-scene’ levels and nods his head towards the exit. Liam nods and drags Hayden out of the building under his alpha’s advisement and they all let out a sigh of relief. 

Scott’s eyes are soft as he watches Stiles and Lydia interact across the table from him, Lydia’s hands clutching one of Stiles’ and playing with his fingers as she explains the homework to Malia in depth. He notices that she looks freer after her time with Malia, and he assumes they had a conversation that was a long time coming.

Stiles can’t stop his gaze from flitting between Lydia’s face where the intelligent spiel is pouring from her lips and her hands wrapped around his. He ends up catching Scott’s gaze and observant smile. Stiles rests his head against his empty hand with a wonderstruck look on his face and he and Scott have a silent conversation with each other over the table.

They’re interrupted when Lydia’s forced to drop Stiles’ hand onto her thigh, grabbing a pen and writing an equation on a napkin so she can explain it to Malia with a visual to help her understand. Stiles rubs his hand against her thigh a little from its new position and Lydia’s voice falters slightly, like she’s just remembered he’s there. Scott’s attention drifts to Lydia’s work on the table, but he can still see Stiles in his peripheral vision, whose eyes are locked to Lydia like it would physically hurt him to look anywhere else. His best friend is so whipped.

Malia nods along intently to Lydia’s explanation, asking questions when she doesn’t understand. She wants to prove to herself and them that she can learn this stuff. She can graduate with them. Her nose is instinctively picking up a smell from Stiles though; his chemo-signals are going crazy over Lydia and it’s distracting. “Thanks Lydia, I think I’ve got it,” she says, trying to put an end to the conversation, giving them an out.

Lydia nods in agreement, and Stiles rubs his hand against her thigh again. She looks over at him, studying his face and he smiles at her serenely, his eyes imploring in their fervor. The corners of her lips twitch up to mirror his, and she rolls her eyes gently, her eyelids fluttering. She turns to Malia and Scott who are already engrossed in their own conversation, interrupting them, “I think we’re gonna head out.”

They nod in response, and Lydia grabs Stiles’ hand, pulling him out of the booth with her. “Malia, call me if you have any more trouble, okay?” and she doesn’t just mean in regards to studying. Malia smiles in understanding. “Thanks for letting us win! Bye guys!”

“Wait, what? They let us win? Lydia, wait! Scott, how could you?” Stiles looks so betrayed as Lydia drags him outside to the parking lot. “They let us win?” he repeats to Lydia.

“Yep,” she affirms, walking with him back to the jeep. “Did you really think we could beat a werewolf and a werecoyote?” Lydia asks amused.

“Well…” Stiles’ brow furrows, “Yeah, no, of course we couldn’t. Why didn’t I realize that before? Scott lied to me and I didn’t have a clue.”

Lydia hums. “I think you were a little distracted.” They reach the jeep at that moment and Lydia raises up on her toes as she leans back against his car, pulling him towards her by the collar. Stiles’ hands come to rest on her hips, as their breaths mingle together teasingly.

“Me? Distracted? What _ever_ could you mean?” Stiles whispers. They dive for each other’s mouths simultaneously, the heat rocketing between them. Lydia moans into Stiles’ mouth as her hands grip at his shoulders. Stiles runs his tongue along her bottom lip sensually before biting down on it. He draws back a little, pulling her with him until her lip pops out from between his teeth and Lydia gasps, growls and pulls him back to her mouth, her hand tugging firmly at his hair.

Lydia sinks back onto her feet and Stiles bends to follow her, like they’re magnets drawn towards each other. Silhouetted in the light of the moon, their bodies writhe as they press against the jeep, subtle moans and gasps releasing from their mouths in between scorching kisses. The next time they break away, Lydia’s body thuds against the vehicle and her eyes go wide. “Fuck. Sorry,” she breathes harshly.

“She’s been through worse, don’t worry,” he says flippantly, still staring at her mouth. His hands slide down from her hips to her ass and she whimpers a little in response. Their movements slow down somewhat, and Stiles kisses her leisurely, savoring every second.

Lydia can feel her forehead creasing a little as she concentrates on the feeling of his mouth against hers. The hot, electrifying kisses that make her tingle and leave her breathless. His lips travel down to her neck and she claws at his shoulder as he hoists her body upwards, pressing them together erotically. She whimpers, unable to suppress a quiet moan of his name.

“Stiles? Seriously?” Scott calls out from across the parking lot as he and Malia make their way to his bike.

Stiles squeezes her ass in shock as they’re broken out of their steamy bubble. Lydia puts her hand on his chest, her cheeks blushing a deep crimson color.

“You’re making out in the parking lot like horny teenagers!” Scott chastises, amusement in his voice and Malia laughs next to him.

Stiles glances back down at Lydia briefly, before calling back, “We _are_ horny teenagers, buddy. Be glad you didn’t see more!”

Lydia’s head sinks forward into Stiles’ chest, hiding her face in embarrassment, “Stiles, can we go?”

His hands drift up to her jaw, lifting her face away from him so he can read her expression. Stiles pauses, studying her, before nodding gently. He watches her with concern as she gingerly walks around the jeep before surreptitiously slinking into the passenger seat. Stiles glances over at Scott, who looks equally worried before catching Stiles’ gaze and gesturing his head towards Lydia in a ‘you need to talk to her’ motion.

Joining her in the car, the slam of the door feels like it echoes in the awkward silence. Lydia fiddles with her phone, attempting to avoid the questions she knows are coming over her drastic mood change.

He brings a hand up to push a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly before resting it lightly against her neck. “Lydia, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she abruptly denies, continuing to avoid him as her eyes bore into her phone screen.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But please don’t lie to me. I thought we were past hiding ourselves from each other.” Stiles’ tone is soft, but there’s a edge of hurt to it as well.

Lydia feels her blood temperature drop a little, suddenly feeling colder. Her body shivers subtly and she releases a small sigh. Moving her head in his direction, she traps his hand between her jaw and shoulder, keeping him connected to her. Lydia stares at him with wide glistening eyes, the lights from the bowling alley sign reflected in them. Stiles pouts at her a little. “Sorry,” she apologizes quietly.

Stiles rubs his fingers against the skin of her shoulder in small movements. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she responds. Lydia brings a hand up and wraps it around his wrist, pulling his hand away from her so she can plant a light kiss to his knuckles. “When they caught us...I just...I had a moment. Sometimes when I feel exposed I shut down, or shut people out.”

A small smile ticks up on his lips, “Yeah, I’ve been on the end of some epic Lydia Martin freeze-outs.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” Lydia turns her body towards him more, a sign of her trying to open herself up. “When we were kissing I...forgot myself. After everything that’s happened and everyone we’ve lost, I coped by trying to shut parts of myself off. I didn’t want to hurt anymore, and that meant either hiding how I felt or not even acknowledging it.” 

“Okay,” Stiles replies, rubbing his hand tentatively against hers. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you had to hide.”

“No, it’s not your fault Stiles. I’m just not used to being unguarded.” Lydia’s brow furrows in concentration. “When Jackson would make out with me in the middle of a party, I wouldn’t care. It was about control and having the lacrosse captain on my arm. It was orchestrated. A show to prove our status.” She looks down at her and Stiles’ connected hands and squeezes gently. “With you I don’t see anything else, I only see you. Sometimes I lose myself in it. And the reality of other people seeing me bared like that made me falter.”

He brings a hand up to her face and slowly runs his thumb along her cheek. “Letting people see you doesn’t make you weak, Lydia.”

She nods gently. “No, I know. I’m working on it. It just takes some getting used to.”

“Do you want us to pull back on the PDA?”

Lydia leans over and gives him a soft kiss, humming as she does so. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” She raises one eyebrow, a smirk appearing on her face. “Or realistically possible.”

Stiles chuckles softly. “I will follow your lead. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You. I’m comfortable with you.” she affirms, causing Stiles to beam at her. Lydia leans forward and rests her head on his shoulder, she presses her lips to his arm in a feather-light kiss.

He smiles affectionately, looking down at her curls that appear more vibrant in the neon lights shining from the building in front of them. Stiles can’t resist taking one of her tendrils and winding it around his finger, the curl bouncing as he releases it. “Well that I like to hear. You want me to drive you home?” Lydia exhales and the breath tickles at his skin causing a quiver down the length of his spine.

“Not yet. I’d like to stay here for a little longer, if that’s okay.” Lydia brings one of her hands up to wrap around his arm, her fingers massaging at the skin. Her other palm comes up to press against his chest, and she can feel the _thump thump thump_ of his heart beating beside her fingers.

Stiles sighs contently and kisses the top of her head, resting his hand against the back of it.

 

\--

 

 

Start A Riot – Banners (Dave Edwards Remix)

_I will tear down every wall_

_Just to keep you warm_

_Just to bring you home_

 

_Will you take my hand?_

_We can make our stand_

 

_In the dark, when you sound the alarm_

_We’ll find each other’s arms_

_For your love, all you are_

_I’d start a riot_

 

Lydia is in AP Biology with Scott beside her when her phone flashes with a notification.

 

_Stiles has added a song to ‘TOTMMGANL’ playlist_

 

She picks up her phone briskly, hiding it under the table so the teacher doesn’t notice her using it in class. It also coincidentally appears like she’s hiding it from Scott, and he tilts his head at her in interest, a puzzled smile gracing his lips. 

“You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know?” he whispers nonchalantly, staring at his notebook as he jots down notes.

“I…” Lydia’s caught speechless, her eyes downcast as she puts her phone back on the table face down. Scott lifts a hand and places it on her arm near her elbow, rubbing it back and forth in a comforting manner. “I don’t know why I am. I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop here,” she whispers back, finally meeting her worried eyes to his warm ones.

“Lydia,” Scott softly replies, his lips thinning as his mouth twists in an expression of sympathy.

“I’m so used to having this wall up. I said it all changed when we kissed but I can’t pinpoint a particular moment or reason why I fell in love with him. It’s everything. Everything he is, has been, will be. Everything he’s done for me. And that terrifies me because if that feeling is that ingrained into me, and I lose him, how do I get past that?” she murmurs, her eyes shining.

“You won’t,” Scott says simply, his eyes flutter slightly as they look down. The pained expression barely repressed on his face.

Lydia breathes in and out emphatically, suddenly feeling awful for making Scott relive those feelings. She reaches over to hold his hand between their seats, anchoring them to each other. “Sorry.”

“Make the most of it Lydia. Let yourself fall into it. If something does happen down the line, it won’t matter that you held yourself back, it won’t make it hurt any less. It’ll hurt more, because you’ll think of all the moments that you could’ve made better. The memories you missed making.” Scott’s tone is even, but too wise and remorseful for someone so young. Lydia’s eyes are watery with unshed tears, and she sniffles a little as she puts her head on his shoulder, her hand curling around his bicep.

She tentatively reaches up to the table, and turns her phone over, opening up the playlist, and studies the new addition. Lydia searches for the lyrics of the recently added song and allows Scott to read next to her.

“My boy’s good,” he mutters, and Lydia has to repress laughing too loudly in their classroom, a subtle blush forming in her cheeks.

She smiles softly at Scott, her posture more relaxed. “He is, isn’t he?” and she sounds so in love it makes his heart clench a little.

“Let yourself enjoy it, Lydia. God knows it took you long enough to get here,” he quips, and Lydia pushes his arm half-heartedly.

“I’m not telling you what the playlist acronym means though,” she says vehemently, “and don’t ask Stiles either.”

Scott raises his hands in surrender, “Sure, I understand. Some things are private.”

Lydia hums, “Remember, I’ve been friends with both of your girlfriends,” and she smirks, her eyebrows rising before she goes back to her own notes.

His mouth opens in a perfect ‘O’, and he leans close to her whispering, “What did they tell you?” making Lydia chuckle as she shakes her head.

 

//

 

At the end of class, Lydia walks out ahead of Scott to find Stiles waiting at the door, a grin appearing on his face when she emerges. His expression is a combination of pride and curiousness over what she thinks of his song choice and Lydia smiles softly at him before pecking him gently on the cheek.

 

_Will you take my hand?_

_We can make our stand_

 

Lydia reaches out her hand towards him, wiggling her fingers, and he looks down at the offering, beaming as he takes it. Memories flash through her mind of things that have happened in this school hallway. She met Allison here. Jackson pushed her here. Stiles and Scott kept her safe here. _We always seem to find each other anyway._ She fell in love here. _Let yourself enjoy it, Lydia_.

She turns her head to nod at Scott behind them and he returns it with a smile as they walk through the hallways to lunch.

 

\--

 

 

In My Blood – The Veronicas

_Now you got me wanting more,_

_I felt religion with you on the floor_

 

_Grind you down into my bones_

_You’re the magic dust that gets me stoned_

_You’re the hallelujah on my throne_

 

_We don’t have to wait all night_

_‘Cause I can feel you in my blood_

 

A couple of weeks before the end of the school year, Nathan is finally hosting the house party he planned that was poached by Mason and Liam during the Ghost Riders visit to Beacon Hills. None of them are particularly fond of Nathan considering how much trouble he caused in the Argent bunker, but with no imminent threats ruining their lives and school coming to an end, it’s one of their last chances to let loose at a high school party.

“Why are we going to Nathan’s again?” Stiles almost whines down the phone at Lydia.

“Because it’ll be fun. Do you remember what that is Stiles?” she teases via speakerphone, putting the finishing touches to her makeup.

Stiles huffs. “Lydia, I’m well aware of what fun is. I have fun with you, Scott, the rest of the pack. I don’t see why it needs to be in a house full of drunk teenagers that annoy the shit out of me.”

“What if I said I’m going to make it worth your while?” Lydia smirks, her voice taking on a sultry tone.

Stiles’ interest is piqued, “You are?” he questions.

“You’ll see,” and before he can start begging for details, Lydia hangs up. She sends him a text that reads ‘ _See you there x’_ so he doesn’t call back again.

 

//

 

Lydia enters the party, her arm linked with Malia’s, and the heads of most of the partygoers turn to gawk at the two girls. Malia, under the advisement of Lydia, wears some tight denim shorts and a shimmery, backless crop top. Lydia wears a tight-fitting bright blue dress with a large cut-out triangular shape in the torso, exposing her bare skin, with some ample cleavage also on display.

“Still got it,” Lydia mutters to herself, raising her chin and flicking her hair.

“Got what?” Malia asks as she bends her head towards Lydia’s.

She shakes her head gently. “It doesn’t matter.”

Malia strides off to the kitchen as Lydia struts towards Stiles purposefully where he’s stood towards the side of the living room, mouth agape. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of making him look like that. Grinning as she approaches, “You like?” Lydia asks.

Stiles takes one of her hands and lifts it into the air, spinning her slowly to the beat of the song that is playing, his eyes raking across her body appreciatively as she laughs. He puts his hand on her back and pulls her flush against his body, his voice thick. “What do you think?”

“Mission accomplished then,” Lydia whispers, drawing her mouth closer to his as if she’s about to kiss him, but instead she presses her hand to his chest to keep him at a distance, not letting him close the gap. She sways in front of him for a second, just out of reach and he lets out a guttural noise of want that’s barely audible over the music. She smiles coquettishly and abruptly turns on her heels, his hand falling away from her back. Lydia brushes her ass firmly against his crotch before sauntering off towards the kitchen to join Malia, her hips swaying from side to side. Lydia casts one more look at him over her shoulder, winking provocatively before she disappears out of sight.

Scott, having witnessed the exchange, strolls over to Stiles, who’s still looking in the direction Lydia left even though she’s gone. “Dude.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees simply.

Scott laughs at the expression on his best friend’s face. “Maybe you should play the lottery or something, because your luck is out of this world.”

His fingers twitch at his side slightly. “I’m aware.”

Noticing that Stiles is almost monosyllabic and not improving, he asks, “Did she break you?”

Stiles lets out a breath. “Potentially,” and he can’t help the smirk that’s unleashed on his face as he remembers what she said the first time he made her come.

Scott pats him on the shoulder, laughs, and hands him a beer.

Stiles takes a swig and looks over at Scott, thanking him. “She’s in a really good mood,” he says.

“Why?” Scott questions.

“She confirmed with MIT this morning that she’ll be starting as a junior.” Stiles smiles proudly.

Scott’s eyes widen, “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ll have to congratulate her.” Scott gestures towards the couch and Stiles nods. “That still doesn’t explain what just happened between you two though,” he adds as they take a seat.

Stiles smirks before taking another drink. “She’s enjoying herself.”

“Enjoying herself by torturing you?” Scott’s eyebrows furrow.

Stiles fiddles with the label on the bottle. “Yep.”

Scott pauses, looking between Stiles and the kitchen, “…I’m not sure I needed to know that.”

Stiles laughs, “Well then you shouldn’t have asked.” His leg jitters, his body thrumming with energy and sexual frustration. “If we’re both missing later on, it’s probably for the best if you don’t come looking for us,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Gotcha,” Scott replies, clinking his bottle with Stiles’.

As Lydia walks back into the room, drink in hand, she barely spares Stiles a glance; instead, heading over to catch up with Hayden and Mason on the other side of the room. She does, however, deliberately place herself where she knows Stiles can see her.

“Distract me,” Stiles pleads, eyes glued to Lydia’s ass.

“Distract you from Lydia wearing that dress?” Scott responds, dismayed. “Stiles, I’m a true alpha not a miracle worker.”

His hand clenches around the bottle until his knuckles turn white. “I’m aware of that. But as my best friend you’re obligated to try anyway.”

 

//

 

Lydia flits from person to person. Even when she’s not the hostess of the party, everybody is drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Although her group of friends is significantly smaller and more meaningful compared to what it was in the past, everybody at Beacon Hills high school is still captivated by Lydia Martin. She feels brighter, and she thinks it’s a combination of no supernatural threats, getting the good news from MIT and the fact that Stiles hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all evening.

She’s knows as soon as she lets him dance with her that he’s going to occupy the rest of her evening, so she’s been making him suffer. Lydia told him she was going to make it worth his while for indulging her and coming to this party, and that’s a promise she intends to keep. Her veins are buzzing with the knowledge that one of the best colleges in the country recognizes that she’s smart enough to skip two years, that the student body don’t see her as the crazy girl that stumbled around naked in the woods anymore, and that there’s a man across the room who loves her so completely they ripped a hole in time and space for each other. Lydia has killed people with her voice, but she’s never felt more powerful than she does right now.

As one song ends and another begins, Scott grabs her hand and drags her into his space to dance with her. Lydia smiles fondly in response. “Congratulations!” he calls over the music, before grabbing her around the waist, lifting her up and spinning her in a circle. Lydia squeals, not expecting the abrupt motion, and holds onto his shoulders for balance even though she knows he’s not going to drop her. She’s breathless when he places her back down on the ground, teetering slightly on her heels because she’s a little tipsy.

“Thank you!” she calls, kissing him on the cheek, and envelops him in a hug. Stiles appears behind Scott, smiling at his two best friends and Lydia makes eye contact with him over Scott’s shoulder.

“Hey, mind if I cut in, buddy?” Stiles says close to Scott’s ear, who nods and pulls away from Lydia, smiling as he leaves them to it. Stiles immediately places one hand on the small of her back and pulls Lydia into him, her arms winding around his neck as his forehead rests against hers.

“Hi,” she greets sweetly as she sways from side to side happily.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, sliding his hands down to her ass, his body matching her rhythm. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night.” Lydia hums, which he feels more than hears, her eyes closed in peaceful bliss.

“I saw,” she replies softly.

Stiles pulls her body tighter against his, and she gasps lightly. The tempo of the song speeds up and their hips synchronize to the changing beat, the blood thrumming through their bodies in harmony. “Yeah, that eye-fucking while you were dancing with Mason was something; would’ve made a weaker man come in his pants,” he jests.

She brings one hand to the back of his head as her movements get dirtier, writhing against his body. “But you’re not a weak man, are you, Stiles?” she flirts, her mouth enticingly close to his.

“Depends. Are you going to finally let me kiss you?” His eyelids are heavy as he stares at her lips, running his tongue over his mouth in a clear expression of want.

Lydia smirks. “Depends,” she copies. “Are you going to do more than kiss me?” and she drags her nails against his jaw.

Taking that as permission, Stiles pounces, drinking her in. All night Lydia has been sparkling like a body of water he’s been desperate to dive into, but instead of being satisfied by finally gaining access to her lips, he feels like a wave continuing to crest, his desire gaining more momentum. His hand comes up to her head, tangling in her waves so he can kiss her vigorously. Lydia’s body tilts back somewhat from how fiercely his lips attack hers before she pushes back into him with similar passion. Stiles runs his tongue along her bottom lip and then nips it with his teeth, causing her to gasp. He takes advantage of the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth and meet her own, the heat between them growing immeasurably as Lydia moans. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he’s aware that they’re doing this in front of a significant number of peers and their friends, but Lydia’s mouth is so enrapturing that the thought leaves his head as soon as it enters.

Lydia breaks the kiss, her breathing rapid and her pupils dilated. She takes hold of Stiles’ hand and turns her back to him, and he immediately brings his hand to the bare skin in the cut-out of her dress, dragging her back into his body. “You are not walking away from me again, Lydia,” he growls in her ear and she shivers.

“You’re right. I’m not,” and she slides up and down his body seductively, rubbing herself against his hard-on. Stiles’ hand moves to her hip, his fingertips still rubbing erotically against the exposed skin of her stomach. They’re pressed tightly together and they move indecently to the beat of the music, surrounded by other students taking advantage of the chance to get down and dirty with their lovers. Had they both not been somewhat intoxicated they might not have been so open with their affections in public— their interactions at school since getting together have been remarkably chaste, but this is a dramatically different pace.

Stiles sweeps Lydia’s hair to one side and mouths at her neck, sucking strongly as he tastes her luscious skin. Lydia’s hand comes up to the side of his head to hold him in place as their bodies continue to writhe together, Stiles’ arm now completely wrapped around her waist, holding her against him.

He’s completely surrounding her, and his mouth against her bare skin makes her feel like she’s on fire. Lydia takes hold of Stiles’ hand, unwrapping his arm from around her as she turns to face him; it takes him a second to shake himself out of the trance he was in and realize they’re doing this on the dance floor. His face is flushed and his lips are red and all Lydia wants to do is kiss him again, but she’s not having sex with him here no matter how turned on they are. Lydia blinks up at him with lustful eyes and tugs him in her chosen direction as she stumbles out of the throng of people.

When they reach the hallway, the music’s sudden decline in volume gives her a chance to focus and she looks up and down for a place to go. She pulls Stiles towards the staircase with purpose, and he’s so busy staring at her ass as she walks up the stairs that he almost trips and falls. Lydia barks out a laugh uncontrollably. She turns to face Stiles and looks down at him, holding onto the banister as she slowly ascends the last few stairs backwards, maintaining eye contact with him and biting at her lip as she goes.

“Fuck, Lydia,” his voice raspy, as he follows her step for step. He must look positively wrecked because he feels as if he’s being lured to his death by a siren.

She raises and lowers her eyebrows tauntingly. “Well that’s a plan,” and she giggles as she reaches the top of the stairs, rushing towards the first door she sees and opening it. Lydia glances around the room before beckoning Stiles to follow her. “Come on.”

“Come on what?” he jokes, and Lydia laughs tipsily again. “Is this Nathan’s room?” Stiles questions.

“Probably. Problem?” Lydia asks as she closes the door behind them.

“Nah, Nathan’s a douche.” Stiles pushes Lydia by the waist until her back is against the wall, and kisses her fervidly. She whimpers in response, grabbing his head with both of her hands to direct the angle of the kiss to her liking, her fingers running through his hair. Their bodies are pressed tightly together and Stiles lets his hands trail from her waist down to grope her ass, Lydia moans loudly.

She breaks the kiss reluctantly, breathing heavily, and shakes her head. “Wait wait wait,” she says in a rush. “I haven’t made it worth your while yet,” and her hands come up to brush against the exposed skin above his jeans where his shirt’s ridden up.

“This isn’t my reward?” Stiles asks confused, his brow furrowing.

“Nuh-uh,” Lydia murmurs, her hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and dragging it over his over his head. She drops it on the floor before placing a quick kiss on his chest. He watches her with interest, waiting for her next move, knowing she’s in control here.

Lydia pushes him backwards and walks them across the room, Stiles falls into a seated position as his legs hit the bed and he stares up at her in wonder. She leans down to him and kisses him sweetly. Lydia’s hands wander across his bare chest, his skin warm from the activities of the evening. Standing back up, Lydia kicks off her heels, and moves the straps of her dress down her shoulders so her breasts spill out of it a little more. Stiles inhales as he watches her, captivated. And then she sinks to her knees.

Stiles’ eyes widen in awe, the implication obvious. Smirking, Lydia reaches forward and rubs at his erection through his jeans and Stiles sinks back on the bed to his elbows, his body trembling from being in a state of arousal since the second Lydia walked into the party hours ago. Because this is a reward and she’s teased him enough, Lydia doesn’t waste any more time, reaching up to pull down his jeans and underwear swiftly. Stiles lets out a sigh of relief at finally being free of the constricting material.

Lydia rubs her hands up and down his thighs tenderly as his legs naturally fall wider to allow her easier access. She licks her palm once before taking hold of his cock, running her hand up and down him loosely and too slow, she knows it won’t be enough, but she wants him to tell her what he needs.

“Lydia, please,” Stiles sighs, his eyes falling shut.

“Yes, Stiles?” she asks innocently.

“Lydia, I need your mouth. Please.” His voice is emphatic, he’s not afraid to beg if he has to.

She hums happily, before closing her mouth around the tip like a tender kiss, and Stiles’ eyes open, needing to see every second of this to commit it to memory. Lydia sinks down on him ever so slowly, an intense look of concentration, almost meditation, on her face as she does so. She takes him deeper and deeper until he just about hits the back of her throat and that’s when she locks eyes with him, blinking slowly. Stiles lets out a choked off gasp and has to use all of his willpower to resist bucking his hips up into her inviting mouth. Lydia feels his body tremble beneath her, and takes the arm of her unoccupied hand, laying it over his hips to control his urges. Stiles clenches the fabric of the bedspread in his hands, his knuckles turning white.

Lydia pulls off just as slowly. “Okay. Good,” she says calmly, thoughtfully.

“Yeah?” Stiles responds, his voice strained.

She presses his dick to her closed lips, smiling as she stares up into his eyes. This feels like another beginning, another way for them to be connected that’s unlike any experience she’s had with any other boy. She feels appreciated, respected, and, not for the first time tonight, powerful. She hums her approval and Stiles feels the vibrations ricochet all the way through his body, he groans unrestrainedly and she swears it echoes in the quiet bedroom.

Lydia licks firmly at the underside of his cock before sucking him into her mouth. She starts bobbing up and down, picking up speed as she gets more comfortable with his size. Stiles’ hand reaches down to rest on the back of her head, not to control or pressure her, but just to feel connected, and he tenderly rubs his fingertips against her scalp. It would make Lydia smile if her mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied and so instead she just squeezes the hand at the base of his shaft gently in acknowledgement.

“You are every wet dream I’ve ever had come to life right now,” Stiles admits breathlessly and Lydia raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that should I? Shouldn’t have said that,” he mutters, “I mean it’s not like I could control it, I wasn’t disrespecting you on purpose or anything. I was in love with you all my life; you were the only girl that was going to show up in any sex dream I had. Fuck, Lydia, fuck.” Stiles is talking a mile a minute and this is secretly what Lydia wanted to gain from this, she wanted to ruin him, turn him into the babbling idiot she knew he was under the controlled sex god he’s shown her so far.

Lydia removes her arm from his hips to trail her hand down to fondle his balls and his hips buck involuntarily, which Lydia had expected and was prepared for. “Fuck, Lydia, sorry. Fuck,” he moans, his head thrown back in pleasure.

Suddenly there’s a light cast into the room from the hallway, and someone’s saying “Hey, Stiles, Lydia, are you in here? Scott said you’d been drinking and might need a ride home…Oh my god.” It’s Hayden, with Liam beside her.

Stiles’ eyes are wide with shock and Lydia still has her mouth around his dick. The silence is deafening. Lydia pulls off of him gently, waves her arm, and sternly says, “Out!” The door slams shut dramatically, untouched by either of the younger teenagers on the other side. She immediately sucks Stiles back into her mouth without missing a beat.

“Lydia! Oh my god, what the fuck? Fuck. What did you just do? Oh my god. Was that telekinesis? Jesus Christ!” Stiles is writhing about on the bed, physically incapable of shutting up now that Lydia’s unlocked this part of him. She can sense him getting close, and his hand tightens in her hair, “Lydia, Lydia, I’m gonna come. Is that okay?” and she looks up at him, blinking slowly to signal her approval, adding a very subtle nod. She sinks lower and sucks harder to push him over the edge and Stiles positively wails as he comes down her throat.

She pulls off him gently, swiping at the spit that had leaked out the side of her mouth. Stiles lays panting heavily on the bed staring up at the ceiling, and Lydia places her hand on his abdomen to try and calm him down. “Stiles?” her voice is raspy and she coughs gently, “Stiles, you okay?”

“You closed the door,” his voice is dazed, “Lydia, you closed the door with your _voice_.”

“Oh,” Lydia whispers, stupefied. It had been so much in the heat of the moment, and she’d just wanted Hayden and Liam to leave, that she hadn’t even properly realized she’d done it. “I…Wow.”

“Did you know you could do that?” he asks, looking down at her on the floor of Nathan’s bedroom.

“No, I’ve never done that before. Lenore, the woman in Canaan, she was able to close the door and lock us in her house but…I didn’t know I was capable of that.” Lydia’s voice is quiet and contemplative.

Stiles reaches for her hand and drags her up onto the bed before reaching down to pull his underwear back on. He gives her a deep kiss, tasting himself on her tongue, and moans. “That was incredible, by the way,” he smiles, and then grimaces, “But I really wish I hadn’t said that stuff about the wet dreams. God.”

Lydia laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take it as a compliment that I was part of your sexual awakening.”

Stiles hums and kisses her on the cheek. “Why do you think it happened? The door thing?” he asks, rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb.

“I’m not sure. I guess…I was feeling powerful?” Lydia’s smiles bashfully, looking down at the cover on the bed.

Stiles tilts her chin up. “You don’t usually feel powerful?” he questions, perplexed.

“I mostly feel power _less._ Or I used to, I don’t know,” she sighs, trying to organize her thoughts. “You make me feel powerful, Stiles.”

“Me?” he scoffs.

“Yes, you.” Lydia says with conviction. “You’ve always believed in me when nobody else did, when I didn’t even believe in myself. I never feel more powerful than when I’m with you Stiles,” her voice is soft, and she runs her hand across his cheek as she leans in to kiss him tenderly. Her eyes widen as realization hits her, “Oh my god. We need to leave before Nathan comes up here. Crap, I wonder if Liam and Hayden have gone, we really needed that ride.” She fixes her dress and stands up, throwing Stiles his shirt as she slips her heels back on.

Stiles laughs, redressing quickly. “There goes my afterglow,” he teases. “You might also want to apologize to them for telekinetically slamming a door in their faces.”

Lydia huffs, crossing her arms, “Please, they owe us an apology for barging into a bedroom during a party. What did they think they were going to walk in on? A game of chess?”

He walks forward and opens the door while his other hand comes up to Lydia’s back and guides her out of the room, “Considering who they were walking in on, they probably did, yeah.”

She laughs, “Touché.”

 

\--

 

 

Heavenfaced – The National

_I wish someone would take my place_

_Can’t face heaven all heavenfaced_

 

_She’s a griever, my believer_

 

_Let’s go wait out in the fields with the ones we love_

_Let’s go wait out in the fields with the ones we love_

 

“Stiles, do you really think you have the discipline to be FBI?” Scott queries, taking a bite out of his sandwich as they sit around a bench at lunch.

He harrumphs a little. “Do you have so little faith in me?”

“No. I just know your methods aren’t exactly by the book.” Scott looks at Stiles knowingly.

Lydia chimes in, “Like Braeden says, when you’re dealing with the supernatural, you’ve got to get an advantage where you can.”

Stiles straightens up next to her enthusiastically. “Exactly! I do what’s necessary. Thank you Lydia,” and he smiles brightly at her.

She taps her foot on the ground thoughtfully. “Plus, it would be a weight off my mind if he finally learns how to use a gun so he’s not defenseless when one is aimed at him.”

“Aw, shucks. She cares about me. Lydia Martin wants me to stay alive,” Stiles singsongs and looks over at Scott across the table from him, the grin on his face appearing even brighter in the midday sun.

Scott sighs. “This is how it’s gonna be now, isn’t it? You backing him up and helping him win arguments?”

Lydia spears a cherry tomato with her fork, pointing it at Scott, as she responds unconcerned, “Not all the time, I’m sure.” Stiles looks smug as he admires his girlfriend.

Scott pouts, but Lydia’s eye is drawn behind him. And it feels like her heart stops. Her breath caught in her chest and her body going numb. There’s a girl with her back to them on the other side of the courtyard. But Lydia knows that frame, that hair, that confident stance like she knows every single scar littering her body, the physical and the mental ones.

Lydia calls out but the girl doesn’t turn, she just stands there. Her eyes scour the scene and she sees a broken arrow lying on the ground beside the girl. Lydia’s hand reaches to find Stiles’ next to her; she clenches at him tightly and hears the worried “Lydia?” right beside her ear. When she looks down, there’s red string around their wrists, holding them together.

As Lydia looks back up to watch the scene in front of her again, she spots a drop of blood hit the ground, sharp in contrast to the pale concrete, and then everything shifts. She feels the scream bubbling up in her throat. What was a sunny day crackles into thunder and the skies open up, rain pouring too quickly. The color drains in front of her and everything looks grey. Metallic. _Silver_.

Everything drains except the blood. And then there’s more, it trickles faster, more of it hitting the floor. The girl starts to sink towards the ground, almost in slow motion. Lydia feels paralyzed with fear. Heartbreak. _Grief_.

She jerks awake with a start, her body catapulting her into a sitting position. Her breathing is so hard it almost sounds like sobbing and Lydia feels like her lungs are going to explode out of her chest. She’s crying and the tears sting as they track down her hot face.

“Lydia.”

Her breath catches. It’s Stiles. His hand strokes over her back as he sits up beside her. He brings his hand to her chin, turning her face towards him so she’s looking at him. “Shhh. Focus on me, okay?”

Lydia’s frenzied eyes track over his face, but she can’t get the brown hair, the arrow, the _blood_ , out of her mind.

Stiles puts his palm over her rapidly moving chest, right over her heart. “Hold onto me Lydia,” he says firmly. His eyes are imploring but calm. Both of her hands come up to clench his arm tightly, she can feel him, flesh and bone beneath her hands. _Alive_.

“Try and copy my breath pattern, okay? In and out steadily.” He presses his forehead to hers and her eyes close involuntarily. She can feel his breath hitting her face and slowly her body naturally attunes itself to his.

They sit there for a few minutes as Lydia calms down, the room quieting around them. Stiles moves his arm to take her hands in his, squeezing them comfortingly for a moment. Then, he brings his hands up to her face and rubs his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away her cooling tears.

Lydia exhales shakily and winds her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Stiles’ arms instinctively wrap around her waist in response. She feels solid in his arms, like she’s been tethered back to earth, back to life. His hand drifts up to play with the ends of her hair.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. She buries her face in his neck.

“It’s what I’m here for,” he replies naturally, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Was it Allison?”

All she’s capable of is a soft nod.

The bright red blood is still set behind her eyes.

Stiles squeezes her a little tighter before he pulls away. Delicately, he places one hand on her cheek and brings his lips to hers softly and slowly in an attempt to distract her. Her demeanor is slightly lifted when he breaks away. “I’m just gonna get you some water okay? I’ll be right back.” He kisses her on the forehead as he leaves and she nods pensively.

Lydia reaches over to the nightstand for her phone and scrolls back through her pictures until she finds a candid photo she took of Allison when she was driving one time, her smile wide, laughing at something Lydia can’t remember. She studies the photo with keen concentration, her mind trying to focus. There had to be a reason for the dream. It’s not like it’s rare for her to dream about Allison, but with her powers changing and growing, she feels like there’s meaning there. She’s never been able to find Allison’s voice among the dead.

Stiles reappears, brushing her hair back from her face and behind her ear as he hands her the glass of water, their hands brushing together as she takes it. He sits back on the bed next to her and pulls her towards him so their thighs are pressed together. He wraps his arm around her back as he stares down at the photo. “Her smile was incredible. She lit up any room she was in,” he reminisces sadly.

“Yeah,” she affirms. Her mind flashes to the red string holding her and Stiles together in her dream. “You know when you were missing because of the Nogitsune and I plucked the red string in this room to try and find you?”

Stiles’ brow furrows in thought. “That may have been mentioned in passing.”

“It was the first time I heard the voices trying to guide me. It didn’t really work because I couldn’t find you. But…I have an idea,” and she feels sure that this is worth a try. This could work.

“About Allison?” he questions.

Lydia grabs his hand, his warm skin comforting as it rests against hers. “I need to call Argent.”

 

//

 

Lydia kneels down in the forest where Allison brought her in sophomore and junior year. When Allison was using her bow and arrow Lydia felt like her best friend was the most masterful warrior there was. She was untouchable. And then she wasn’t. She was gone, and Lydia was left thinking ‘what if.’

 

_If I’d been stronger, could I have saved her?_

_If I’d known for certain it would be her could I have convinced her not to come?_

_If everyone else got a second, third, fourth chance, why didn’t Allison?_

 

With Allison’s bow laid out in front of her combined with the setting, Lydia has a visceral reaction, the memories of Allison flooding back to her. She swears she can almost smell Allison’s perfume; hear her sure footsteps rustling across the ground.

Stiles stands at a distance, watching her silently. He knows she has to do this by herself, but he’s not going to let her do it alone. If this works, she’s going to be left completely vulnerable, and he’s going to make sure she’s safe while she tries this. If it doesn’t, she could get herself worked up into a state, and he needs to protect her and reassure her that she’s brilliant and strong anyway.

Lydia picks up the bow with shaky hands, her breath trembling. She runs her finger along the string of the bow tenderly, and it’s like static in her head. She feels like she’s turning the dial of a radio, searching for the frequency she needs. Lydia closes her eyes, focuses, and plucks the string.

“Lydia.”

She jumps a little in her skin. Her eyes are still closed as she lifts her head. And there’s Allison standing in front of her. Alabaster skin and dark hair. Lips curved in a knowing smile.

“Al-Allison?” Lydia stutters.

Allison steps forward a little, “Hi. Long time, no see,” and she smiles warmly.

“Wh-How is this happening?” She feels a chill run over her arms, goose bumps rising on her skin.

“You’re amazing, that’s how,” Allison says proudly.

Lydia chokes back her tears, “I’ve missed you.”

Allison nods a little in understanding. “I know. I miss you all too. But I’m there, Lydia. I’m with you.”

Lydia stays perfectly still, as if any movement she makes could cause Allison to disappear again. “Sometimes it feels like you’re looking over my shoulder.”

Allison smiles wider. “Maybe I am.”

Leaning forward a little, Lydia states, “Graduation’s soon. I wish you were going to be there.”

“I’ll be there.”

And she doesn’t want to cry, but the tears leak from her eyes anyway when she says, “Not in the way you should be, though.”

Allison crouches down in front of Lydia, her hand coming to rest on her bow. “I don’t regret it. I saved you. I helped save all of you. It was a necessary sacrifice, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Lydia feels irrationally angry that Allison is so okay with this, ”I would. I would change it if it meant you could be alive again.”

Shaking her head knowingly, Allison admonishes, “Lydia. You know you can’t.”

Her tone turns sharp. “Can’t I? If I can do this, maybe I can bring you back.”

Allison is firm, “You can’t, Lydia. You know what Deaton and Morrell say about balance. Opening that can of worms? It would be…terrible.”

“It’s already terrible. You’re dead,” she responds, her voice rising in pain.

Her best friend’s voice remains soft and comforting. “Yes, but I’m okay with that. I get to watch over you. If you try to bring me back, it will be worse. I refuse to let the balance take you, or Stiles, or Scott. Anyone. You are okay without me, Lydia. You have saved so many people, all of you, since I’ve been gone. Don’t start bargaining, making trades. You saw what happened with Caleb in Canaan, remember? I’m _happy_ with this outcome.”

Another tear slips down Lydia’s face, “How can you be happy with it? You’re dead.”

“It was necessary, Lydia,” she reaffirms. “I would die over and over again to save the people I love. That boy over there would do the same for you, the same for Scott. You would die for them too. You understand the sacrifice. I’m just an example of it.”

Lydia shakes her head sadly. “It’s not fair.”

Allison’s mouth twists a little. “Mortality is never fair, Lydia. But it has to be this way.”

The sun emerges from a cloud behind Allison, her skin glowing, and it makes Lydia feel a little brighter, knowing her best friend is at peace. “Can I speak to you again?”

Allison laughs lightly, “You’ll probably figure out a way to, yeah. You’re Lydia Martin. You can do anything if you put your mind to it. Beacon Hills’ very own banshee heroine.”

“Shut up,” Lydia laughs.

“Rude. I haven’t spoken to you in over a year and this is how you treat me?” Allison jokes lovingly.

Lydia turns more serious again, “We all still miss you. Scott still misses you.”

Allison’s eyes get teary. “I know. Tell him I’m proud of him. He’s doing a wonderful job.”

“I will,” she insists.

“Also, tell my dad I think Mrs. McCall’s a good choice,” and Allison says it like it’s common knowledge, but knows she’s giving Lydia information she doesn’t know.

Lydia’s mouth opens exactly as Allison had expected it would. “Wait, what?”

Allison shakes her head, “Yeah, that’s been happening under your noses for months, I get that you’ve been distracted, but... seriously?”

She smiles knowingly. “I _have_ been distracted.”

“Yeah you have.” Allison grins suggestively. “Took you long enough.”

Lydia laughs, “You always knew it would happen eventually, didn’t you? That’s why you made the winter formal happen.”

“Of course I did,” Allison winks. “You love each other so much it’s almost sickening.”

“Ouch. Considering I was front row for you and Scott sophomore year, I think that’s almost an insult.”

Allison’s eyes get a little teary again, “I’m so happy for you, Lydia. You deserve him. He’d go to the end of the earth for you.”

“And I him. Je t’aime, Allison.”

“Je t’aime, Lydia. Go and take on the world with your hyperactive boyfriend. Make sure Scott keeps smiling, that he’s not alone.”

“Never,” Lydia promises.

When she opens her eyes, Allison’s gone. But Lydia feels more at peace than she has since the day she was bleeding out on the lacrosse field. She was finally able to access her powers in a way that could bring her the resolution she’s been desperately needing since the moment the scream ripped through her when Allison was stabbed. It feels like the right time to finally let those feelings of pain and resentment go, to start anew.

She sniffles slightly and wipes her face, turning her head to look at Stiles where he leans against her car. Lydia’s face breaks out into a shaky but tranquil smile and he smiles back, nodding at her proudly.

 

\--

 

 

Run – Matt Nathanson ft. Sugarland

_You pull me in close_

_And buckle my knees_

_I shake and I shiver just to feel you breathe_

 

_I’m amazing when you’re beside me_

_I am so much more_

_And I feel your fingers_

_Pound like thunder_

_I am so much more_

 

Lydia laughs lightly as her heels clack along the hallway floor, Stiles dragging her through the school, their gowns flowing in their haste. In a swift movement, Stiles pulls Lydia into the closet, flicks on the light, and abruptly presses her against the rapidly closing door. She exhales, still grinning as she brings a hand up to caress his cheek, pushing it up to his hair before taking his cap and tossing it to the ground.

“They’re going to notice we’re missing you know,” Lydia says sweetly as Stiles goes for her neck, his hands trying to find purchase on her hips through the slippery material of her gown.

He nips at her collarbone, causing her to gasp, her hand grabbing a fistful of his hair. “Don’t care,” he mutters into her skin.

“You must’ve heard me practice-“ her breath hitches as one of her legs instinctively comes up to wrap around his hip, “-practice my speech a dozen times before today.”

Stiles fumbles to reach the edge of her gown, places his hand tight around her ankle and runs it up her smooth leg to her upper thigh before pulling her tighter against him, “Yes. But seeing my insanely smart and _hot_ girlfriend giving the valedictorian speech in her cap and gown, in front of the graduating class who have no idea how freakin’ incredible she is in a myriad of other ways, leaves a slightly different impression than her pacing around my bedroom. Imagine that.” He nudges his nose against hers, joining their lips together as her lower body writhes against his.

“Stiles, we’ve got to be quick, they’re going to be looking for us.” She moves one of her hands under her gown to join his, taking it and moving it to the edge of her underwear. He groans, pushing her thong to the side and immediately circles her clit with one finger before moving down and dipping two of them inside her and her rapidly increasing wetness.

“Stiles!” she cries out, her hand grasping tightly to his shoulder, her nails digging in through the fabric as she teeters unsteadily on her heels, thankful that Stiles is holding her up because she’d definitely fall otherwise.

 

//

 

Hayden and Liam walk ahead of Noah and Natalie as they enter the school hallway. “They can’t have gone far,” Hayden ponders, leading the small group on a search mission for the elder two’s respective children.

“It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep track of them these days, so you never know,” Noah says amused.

Hayden and Liam abruptly come to a stop in the middle of the hallway, causing Natalie who was trailing them pretty closely to almost bump straight into them, the Sheriff who was walking more casually, lifts a hand out to steady Natalie by the shoulder.

_“Oh god, Stiles. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”_

_“Shh, wasn’t planning on it. Come on Lydia, come for me.”_

Hayden looks amused as she looks over at Liam, whose expression is shocked and borderline nauseous as their werewolf hearing brings the current festivities to their attention. They both know what happened last time they interrupted Stiles and Lydia mid-tryst, and with their parents in tow, they’re not eager to face Lydia’s wrath again. Hayden barely misses a beat as she spins 180 degrees and announces, “You know, I don’t think they’re here. Maybe Scott’s had better luck and we should go and find him.”

Noah, registering Hayden’s words, narrows his eyes slightly at Liam, who looks like a deer caught in headlights as he nods a little too enthusiastically, mouth going dry. Hayden begins ushering Natalie back out the door they came in, looking back at Liam pleadingly to help sell the lie. He glances at her before making eye contact with the Sheriff, and he knows he’s being incredibly transparent, but he looks desperately at the Sheriff, trying to convey that they should just follow Hayden’s lead for all their sakes.

“Let’s go find Scott then.” Noah claps a hand on Liam’s shoulder as they follow Hayden and Natalie back out to the graduating class, friends, and family.

 

//

 

Stiles and Lydia try to rejoin the group as nonchalantly as possible, but there really is no hiding their rosy cheeks and exuberant smiles.

“There you kids are, you disappeared right as we were about to start taking the photos,” Noah greets. He lifts one interrogatory eyebrow at Stiles, who in return smashes his lips together and ducks his head as one hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly.

Natalie turns around towards Lydia, realizing the missing teens have finally reemerged. She considers Lydia’s appearance and gives her a hard look, plucking one of Lydia’s curls that has fallen out of place and fixes it. Natalie then sighs as she realizes Lydia’s cap is askew and attempts to move it back into place, all the while Lydia looks at her mother with shining doe-eyes, attempting to give off an air of innocence even though nobody’s buying it. Natalie takes a compact out of her purse and passes it to Lydia, who gratefully accepts it as she tries to make herself camera-ready.

“Can we get on with this?” Malia complains grumpily, “I don’t want to be in this thing any longer than I have to.” She tugs at the gown in frustration over the amount of material covering her.

The four of them line up in a row, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Malia in succession as their families take turns commemorating the amazing moment of their children having made it all the way to graduation in one piece. They rotate around, mixing and matching in formation to get as many differing photos as they can of the day.

When Stiles and Lydia are left alone because Natalie wants one of just the two of them, Stiles briskly wraps his arm around Lydia’s waist, pulling her into a showy kiss. Lydia smiles into it as her hand comes up to try and keep the cap on her head. Noah laughs and Natalie blinks before taking advantage of the moment, capturing it with her camera. As the flash goes off, Lydia breaks away from Stiles and protests, “Mom, no! Kissing pictures are so tacky, delete that!”

“Of course, dear,” Natalie replies unconvincingly.

“Send me a copy,” Noah says in a low voice that Lydia and Stiles can’t hear. “I have a feeling Stiles is gonna want to put that up in his dorm room, or possibly lining the hallways of the whole school. Both are distinct possibilities.” Natalie laughs as she looks over at the kids. Stiles entwines both of his hands with Lydia’s as they face each other, gently swaying from side to side. Her head is dipped slightly as he says something their parents can’t hear and he places small kisses on her forehead, cheeks and lastly on her lips. Lydia’s smile is brighter than Natalie’s ever seen it and for the first time in a god knows how long, she realizes just how young they really are. How carefree and light they seem without the burden of bad supernatural elements, what they look like from the outside during a perfectly average teenage milestone.

She carefully lifts the camera again so as not to draw their attention to her and break them out of their moment.

“Mom!” Lydia cries out again in protest as the flash interrupts them. Stiles just laughs.

 

\--

 

 

Dangerous Words – Ash Koley

_‘Cause these are dangerous words we speak_

_Are you ready for all it baby_

 

_So I let my heart speak for me_

_And if you listen closely it’s more than enough_

 

Lydia, hearing whoops and shouts, shakily makes her way out of the well-lit lake house onto the walkway leading to the lake. Her heels clack along the wood as she tries to keep her balance, one hand clutching a towel with her.

She spies Scott, Stiles and Liam play-fighting in the lake, illuminated by the lights from the house, Stiles repeatedly complaining about Scott and Liam using their wolf powers to cheat, even though they would undoubtedly beat him without using them.

Slowing her steps to a stop, Lydia looks fondly at her friends having fun on their last hurrah before her and Stiles leave to take him to George Washington. “Hello boys!” she calls, smiling flirtatiously at them, and the teens holler a chorus of “Lydia!” up at her where they bob about on the surface. She shakes the towel with emphasis, “Stiles, you’re not supernatural, come out before you catch pneumonia.”

Lydia plops down on the wood as Stiles drags himself out of the lake, dripping wet as he makes his way over to her and takes the towel from her outstretched hand.  She stares up at him with a combination of love and lust shining in her eyes and a smirk on her face.

“Oh boy, how much have you had to drink?” Stiles grins, looking down at his girlfriend as he runs the towel over his hair.

“Mason and I did shots,” Lydia smiles in confirmation, her eyes slightly dazed.

After drying himself off and redressing, Stiles sits down behind Lydia, wrapping his body around her as they stare out into the lake, illuminated by the moonlight and the light behind them from the house.

“Stiles?” Lydia asks, clutching one arm around her as she moves her head towards him.

“Yes Drunk-Lydia?” he responds amused.

Lydia giggles, and she’s never sounded so angelic and light before. “I love you,” she adds quietly.

Stiles presses his head alongside hers, like they’re whispering secrets, “Do you love me as much as Sober-Lydia loves me?”

She sighs, content. “Probably more.”

He nods in acknowledgement, “Well now I know I should keep alcohol well stocked for when I piss you off then.”

Lydia thinks for a moment, considering. “That could backfire,” she says seriously, a note of worry in her voice.

“That is true, that’s why you’re the smart one,” Stiles replies jokily.

She looks up at him with big eyes. “Not feeling so smart right now.”

“No?” he tilts his head, looking down at her in his arms. And she just shakes her head, her mouth forming a contemplative pout making Stiles laugh.

Lydia’s quiet for a while, running her fingers up and down the length of his arm before she starts, “Stiles?”

“Yes Drunk-Lydia?” he responds again.

“Stop calling me that!” she berates, swatting his arm a little.

“We’ll see,” he says to himself, amused.

Lydia pauses for a moment, concern etched across her face. “What was I saying?”

Stiles chuckles lightly. “I don’t know, what were you saying?”

She hums thoughtfully in deep concentration and Stiles kisses the top of her head fondly. “Oh, I remembered!” Lydia calls, almost like there’s literally a light bulb lighting up above her head.

“What was it?” he asks.

“I want to be with you forever,” Lydia smiles happily, sinking deeper into his arms. Stiles, surprised by the romantic admission, beams and looks down at her. Lydia’s not sure if the light is coming from the house anymore or if maybe it’s coming from him because he’s shining like the sun as his eyes meet hers. “Do you want to be with me forever?” she questions, her tone melodic.

He strokes tenderly along her jaw with his fingers, bringing her head up to his to kiss her gently. “Forever’s not nearly long enough,” he confesses sincerely, voice low against her lips.

Lydia’s brow furrows, “But forever is infinite, Stiles.”

Gripping her tighter to him, he simply responds, “Yeah, I know.”

Trying to figure things out under the haze of alcohol, Lydia narrows her eyes, “Are you being poetic or dumb?”

“Poetic,” Stiles confirms, and presses his forehead to hers as his eyes fall shut.

Lydia nods subtly. “Okay, good. I like when you get poetic.”

Stiles’ eyes shoot open before narrowing at her, “That’s not what Sober-Lydia would have me believe.”

She brings his hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it, “Sober-Lydia has to bring you down a peg or two.”

He nods in understanding. “That she does.”

Lydia shivers a little as a breeze blows over them and Stiles wraps his arms tight around her, holding her close. Her tone is quiet but sharp with honesty when she asks, “Can I tell you a secret? Something Sober-Lydia hasn’t told you?” Her gaze remains on the lake as she breathes deeply in his arms.

“I’m all ears,” Stiles whispers, his lips close to her ear.

“That expression is weird,” Lydia ponders, temporarily distracted.

Stiles shakes his head minutely, “Lydia,” he urges.

She brings her knees up closer towards her body, almost like a shield protecting her, and them, from anything penetrating their bubble. “Sober-Lydia hasn’t told you she wants to marry you someday.” Lydia’s voice has startling clarity. Scott and Liam are still messing around in the lake and music is blasting inside the lake house but every sound that isn’t coming from Lydia’s mouth means nothing to Stiles right now. There could be a meteor heading for earth and he would still be unequivocally focused on Lydia.

He pauses, taking in the words and digesting them. Not only is the girl of his dreams sat in his arms right now... not _only_ is she with him and loves him and wants to be with him forever, apparently, but she wants to _marry_ him. “…No, she hasn’t.”

Very quickly after his response, Lydia continues. “Sober-Lydia also hasn’t told you that she might like to procreate with you. In the very distant future, of course,” and she sounds almost scared, but also absolutely certain, like revealing this piece of herself completely terrifies her and isn’t what she’s used to, but that she’s given it a lot of thought. Lydia is particular about her word choice, even when lacking in sobriety. Stiles is well-versed in the language of Lydia Martin, ‘might’ doesn’t mean ‘maybe’, it means she knows what she wants but she doesn’t want to commit to something in case it comes back to bite her in the ass.

Stiles is near speechless, and he presses his mouth to her neck, not with the intention to kiss her but just to assure himself that Lydia is flesh and bone beneath his lips, that she’s this tangible, real life, dream come true in his arms. He lifts his right hand an inch away from her body and uses his thumb to count his fingers subtly, his hand shaking before he places it against her waist. “…She definitely hasn’t done that.”

Lydia places her left hand over his right one on her waist, tenderly nudging their fingers together. “Is Drunk-Lydia scaring you?” Lydia’s tone is humorous, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s worried she’s revealed too much.

He exhales and uses a hand to tilt Lydia’s head so she’s looking up at him again, and kisses her softly. “No.” He smiles sweetly, “Drunk-Lydia is turning out to be an excellent source for finding out what Sober-Lydia wants out of this relationship,” he teases.

As her brow furrows again in an attempt to concentrate, she responds, “Can we stop talking about me in third person now?”

Stiles nods. “Of course.”

Scott and Liam choose this moment to jump out of the pool and make their way back to the house. As he passes by Lydia, Scott ruffles her hair with his wet hand and Lydia squawks, recoiling. Before she even has time to access the damage, Liam emerges in front of her and shakes himself off like a wet dog. Lydia screams and Stiles laughs, ducking behind her as she takes the brunt of the assault.

“Should’ve brought us towels as well, Lydia!” Liam calls as he continues up the walkway.

Lydia turns towards the house with an offended and betrayed expression covering her face. Stiles presses his head into her neck and damp hair to hide his continuing laughter. “I’m going to kill them,” she seethes.

Stiles uncurls himself from her and rises to his feet. He reaches down with both hands to help her up and she huffs, marching back into the lake house with purpose and fire in her eyes. Stiles follows after her shaking his head in amusement, “That’s my woman,” he mutters to himself.

 

\--

 

 

How Far We’ve Come – Matchbox Twenty

_I’m waking up at the start of the end of the world_

_But it’s a feeling just like every other morning before_

 

_But I believe the world is burning to the ground_

_Oh well, I guess we’re gonna find out_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

 

Stiles’ left hand tightens around the steering wheel slightly as the opening notes of the song begin to fill the car they’ve rented to make the cross-country road trip to George Washington. He grins and glances over at Lydia, gently poking her side with his right hand.

“No, Stiles, don’t do it,” Lydia scolds, trying to maintain her stern disposition when she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Stiles begins to wiggle slightly in his seat in response to the beat of the music, “Oh Lydia, I’m doing it. You’re doing it. We’re doing this.”

“You’re on your own. I refuse.” Lydia crosses her arms in retaliation. This was Stiles’ addition to the playlist, not hers.

Stiles tuts slightly before he takes a breath, breaking out into song:

 

_“I’m waking up at the start of the end of the world,_

_But it’s a feeling just like every other morning before,_

_Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it’s gone._

_The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour_

_And I started staring at the passengers who’re waving goodbye_

_Can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?”_

 

He looks over at Lydia, raising and lowering his eyebrows in quick succession to point out the lyrics to her, even though he’s aware she knows exactly how relevant this song is to their lives.

 

_“But I believe the world is burning to the ground_

_Oh well I guess we’re gonna find out_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Well I, believe it all, is coming to an end_

_Oh well, I guess we’re gonna pretend_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come.”_

 

Stiles’ belts out the lyrics of the chorus, getting more emphatic as he goes, and Lydia can’t take her eyes off of this beautiful boy, so unabashed and free as they drive him further and further away from Beacon Hills and the trouble it brings them. Despite the morose lyrics, the song’s tempo lends itself to an air of escapism, of survival, and that’s a feeling they’re all too aware of and eager to celebrate. 

When Stiles reaches the lyrics “ _Say your goodbyes if you’ve got someone you can say goodbye to_ ,” he reaches over with his right hand and grabs Lydia’s left, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it passionately as he keeps staring at the road ahead of them, a joyous smile on his face. Lydia continues to gaze at him with amused wonder shining in her eyes, smashing her lips together to try and suppress her smile.

As the song slows down slightly and reaches its brief instrumental, Stiles squeezes Lydia’s hand, still resting in his, to the beat of the song. He looks over at her and asks compellingly, “Please, Lydia.” He’s not begging, but she can tell it would make him irrevocably happy if she joined in, and Lydia isn’t about to deny Stiles that kind of elation, even if she doesn’t think she’s a good singer.

She rolls her eyes with faux exasperation, and Stiles grins as he turns his head back to the road again, knowing he’s won her over.

 

_“I believe the world is burning to the ground_

_Oh well, I guess we’re gonna find out_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Well I, believe it all, is coming to an end_

_Oh well, I guess, we’re gonna pretend_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come_

_Let’s see how far we’ve come”_

 

Lydia gives in and joins Stiles for the the last chorus, raising her voice for the line “ _Let’s see how far we’ve come_ ” as it repeats until the end of the song. The line resonates strongly with Lydia and Stiles because of their history, and how they were brought together. Lydia feels free and safe, and so genuinely happy. She doesn’t have to keep up a wall with Stiles; he’s not going to care if she’s not perfect and she sings out of tune. He’s going to be laughing with her, not at her. It’s about feeling the music and having fun, something they haven’t had enough experience of as teenagers that fight supernatural monsters on a daily basis.

As the song ends, Lydia presses down on his hand where it rests on top of his thigh, and leans over to plant a strong kiss on his cheek, slightly nuzzling her head against his before she settles back in her seat, both of them smiling happily in comfortable silence as they continue the drive.

 

\--

 

 

Beautiful – Somnous

_She came, but she never saw this coming_

_Worked her out, she’ll never be running_

 

_‘Cause now she’s naked on the floor,_

_Nowhere I gotta go, this shit is beautiful_

_This girl is beautiful_

 

There’s a moment when Stiles is driving down the highway and Lydia can feel a strong wind hitting her arm as it rests on the open window. The cogs whirl in her mind as she forms an idea, a subtle smile landing on her lips.

“Stiles, focus on the road, okay?” Lydia says firmly.

“Erm, yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” he looks over at her briefly before returning his eyes to the empty road ahead.

“Just…don’t pay attention to me,” she answers casually, nudging her sunglasses up her nose. Then she clicks off her seatbelt.

“Impossible,” he mutters.

Lydia checks the road behind them, sees it’s blissfully quiet and nods to herself. She kneels up on her seat and grabs the top of the window frame with both hands and reclines back through the window.  The wind hits her with force, the cool breeze caressing her skin as she breathes in the fresh air. Her long strawberry blonde locks whip and tangle in the wind and she laughs loudly in joy. She feels liberated.

Stiles glances over at her and grins. Messy hair included, she’s never looked more breathtaking. “Okay free bird,” he calls so she can hear him against the wind, “back in the car now.”

Lydia grins brightly as she climbs back in, “If I’m a bird, you’re a bird.”

 

//

 

“Okay…first sex dream about me?” Stiles questions. He’s holding a notebook and chewing on the end of a pen.

“Stiles,” Lydia admonishes as she stares at the road and shakes her head in dismay.

“What? I wanna know!” he pokes her arm. “Tell me!”

“You’re so annoying.” She rolls her eyes. “Somewhere in that month between the sacrifice and when you started having the nightmares,” she confesses.

“Really now?” he responds intrigued, a smirk appearing on his face. She hums, glances over at him and winks knowingly. “That good, huh? Did I live up to the hype Lydia Martin’s mind created?”

“Well you were a virgin at the time, Stiles. My brain couldn’t shut off that piece of information,” Lydia shares.

“Oh, so you were corrupting me, were you?” he quips, running his fingertips along her arm.

Lydia clicks her tongue, “Stiles, I’m sure you’ve had an extensive browser history full of porn since well before we started high school. I don’t think there was anything left for me to corrupt.”

Stiles gasps mockingly, “Lydia, you do me a disservice. I’ve been clearing my browser history since I was a wee boy,” he says in a completely terrible attempt at a Scottish accent that makes Lydia snort. She curses the day he caught her reading _Outlander_ in bed and insisted on reading over her shoulder. “I, for one, am pretty glad you didn’t get the inexperienced Stiles. My stamina was severely lacking.”

She laughs. “Well, I am a _big_ fan of your stamina.” Her tone softens. “I wouldn’t have cared though Stiles. You could’ve come in your pants and I still would’ve taken it as a compliment.”

“So Real-Stiles trumps Dream-Stiles right?” he asks, leaning closer to her.

“Oh, definitely.”

“Yes!” he fist-pumps into the air, banging his hand on the roof of the car. “Ouch.”

Lydia laughs loudly.

 

//

 

Lydia sighs and reaches her hand back to her bag on the floor behind the driver’s seat, searching for a snack. She ends up leaned over Stiles as she stretches, her hair hanging down and her face dangerously close to his crotch. Stiles shifts a little in his seat, his hands tightening around the steering wheel and he blinks quickly, trying not to look down at her. 

She realizes the compromising position and subtly undoes her seatbelt, the search for a snack now forgotten. Lydia’s body lurches forward a little as Stiles drives over a bump and she chuckles, resting her forehead on his thigh. “Stiles.”

He reaches one hand down and sweeps her hair to one side, rubbing his fingers against her scalp in the process. “I will admit, this is a massive turn on…” and Lydia’s eyebrow quirks over the word ‘massive’, “But considering the sun’s setting, I suggest we find a place to stop for the night and then finish this.”

Lydia flutters her eyelashes up at him from his lap, a perfect juxtaposition of innocent doe eyes and an alluring smirk on her lips that tells him she wants to be bad. She lays a suggestive kiss on his hardening dick through his jeans before she abruptly sits back up in the passenger seat. “Make it quick,” she orders.

“Pun not intended I assume?” he smiles wickedly as Lydia pulls down the mirror to check her makeup. “I would be so down for road-head if I didn’t sincerely think I might crash this car, Lydia.”

She puts her hand on his thigh and rubs her fingers teasingly along the inner seam of his jeans, “Find a place to stay, Stiles.”

 

//

 

After checking in, Stiles and Lydia make their way to a hotel room each holding their essential bags. Lydia walks ahead silently, swaying her hips with purpose.

“Your body should have sonnets written about it,” Stiles suggests, his eyes glued to her figure.

Lydia chuckles, “Calm down, Pablo Neruda.”

As they come to a stop outside their designated room, they face one another, tension crackling between them. Stiles smirks.

 

“ _Love is a war of lightning,_

_And two bodies ruined by a single sweetness._

_Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,_

_Your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages_.”

 

Her eyes bore into his and she brings a hand up to clutch his shirt, pulling him towards her boldly, “You’re gonna get so lucky.”

Stiles beams, “Aren’t I already?” and his nose grazes hers ever so slightly.

“Luckier,” she insinuates. She leans closer and places a kiss on Stiles’ ear before taking the lobe between her teeth and tugging. “Get this door open already.”

When they get inside, Lydia drops her bag to the floor, kicks off her shoes and goes to stand in the middle of the room. Stiles closes the door and leans against it, watching her with rapt attention. With her back to him she slowly removes her cardigan and lets it drop to the floor slowly. She turns around to face him, a devilish look on her face as she pulls her top over her head, her breasts bouncing a little with the movement, and smirks when she sees his eyes drift down to stare at them.

His intense gaze makes her body flush with heat, and she pushes her skirt down with a swift movement letting it flutter to the floor. She turns around again briefly, letting Stiles get a look at the curvature of her ass barely covered by a cream-colored thong. Stiles groans as his head thuds against the door behind him and Lydia laughs softly in response.

Turning to face him again, she reaches behind her and releases the clasp on her bra, dangling it by one strap before she adds it to the pile of discarded clothes. Lydia places her hands on her hips confidently and is about to move her hands to remove the last article covering her when Stiles leaps into action. He strides across the room and grabs her face, kissing her passionately. Suddenly, he moves one hand down to her underwear and pushes it underneath, cupping it around her cunt.

She moans into his mouth and immediately brings her hands to the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Their mouths come back together from their momentary separation with aggressive force. Lydia hauls him closer to her, their teeth clacking together a little in a battle of dominance.

Lydia chooses that moment to sink to the floor of the hotel room. She runs her lips along his happy trail, pausing to breathe in his natural scent. Her hands quickly find the waistband of his jeans and underwear and yank them down, uncovering him to her. She holds onto his hips and sinks her nails into the flesh of his ass before lowering her mouth onto him, swallowing him down until his cock reaches the back of her throat, her eyes staring up at him with complete focus and control.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he breathes out, his voice sounding a little strangled.

She winks and he has to stop himself from coming on the spot.

Stiles pulls her away from him gently, kicking his clothes and shoes the rest of the way off and drops to her level. His mouth attaches to her shoulder, collarbone and neck with hot, wet kisses that leave her wanting more. He pulls back up so they’re staring into each other’s eyes, like the calm before the storm. Stiles places his hands lovingly on either side of her jaw and kisses her deeply, his hot mouth making love to hers, mimicking what their bodies do so well.

She’s a little breathless and her eyes are slightly glassy afterwards and he simply smirks before twisting his finger in a motion for her to turn around. Lydia quirks an eyebrow upward and tilts her head in interest, swiveling until her back is to him.

He presses himself against her, his cock rubbing firmly at the juncture of her ass. She moans as he brings his mouth back to her neck again and her head tilts to allow him better access as his hands come up to cup her breasts, kneading them firmly.

“I’m gonna fuck your brains out,” he mutters huskily into her ear.

Heat courses through her blood, “You know I need those right? Kind of the whole reason I’m starting as a junior,” she murmurs humorously.

Stiles pinches one of her nipples, “Kind of the whole reason I fell in love with you too.”

She moans a little, “Ah yes, the only man to ever favor my mind over my body.”

“But it is a very nice body,” he affirms, rubbing his hands up and down to emphasize the point.

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear.”

Stiles groans, his fingers tightening on her hips hard. “Oh please wear a Red Riding Hood costume for Halloween. I’ll beg if I have to.”

Lydia makes a small noise of interest in the back of her throat. “Would that make you the wolf?”

“Obviously not. I’d be the woodcutter.” He places a sweet kiss on the soft skin behind her ear.

“Of course.”

Stiles places his hands on her shoulders and firmly pushes her down so she’s on her hands and knees in front of him and Lydia’s body trembles in anticipation. He draws her panties down to her knees and enters first one finger and then another inside of her, groaning at the wet heat enveloping him as he stretches her a little.

He reaches into the pocket of the bag that was cast aside when they came in and grabs a condom. Lydia shimmies her ass alluringly and he can’t resist swatting gently at one cheek. She instantly stills and Stiles feels compelled to ask if she’s okay.

“Uh-huh,” she replies softly, but it sounds like she’s having a revelation. Stiles lines himself up and pushes inside her slowly, his hands moving to grab her hips and he pulls her back onto him.

“Lydia,” Stiles muses, “Do you want me to try that again?” There’s a mix of wonder and lust in his voice that Lydia always finds exciting.

“Yes,” but before she even finishes saying the word the ‘S’ gets extended when he brings his hand down on her ass harder. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, her body gyrating as she pushes back on his cock.

He rubs his hand against the skin of her ass where it’s burning slightly. “Interesting.”

Lydia looks around at him, narrowing her eyes, “Stiles, if I have to change things up to wipe that smug look off your face, I’ll do it.”

“Really?” he asks smugly, running both of his hands teasingly up and down her ass cheeks. “Sure about that?” and he brings his other hand down, a cracking sound permeating the air. Lydia cries out softly, the sharp sting ricocheting through her whole body. The combination of pleasure and pain is exhilarating and she can feel her pussy getting wetter under his ministrations.

“St-Stiles,” she stutters, her body shuddering.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” Stiles comments as Lydia’s body bends, collapsing down onto her elbows. Her hands claw at the carpet below her as she lets out breathy moans. He can hear their bodies slapping together and it turns him on almost as much as Lydia’s noises. He brings both hands down simultaneously against the red skin of either cheek and he feels Lydia clench around him hard.

“Stiles!” Lydia’s body begins to move quicker against his and Stiles reaches for her waist, maneuvering her so she’s upright, his chest flush against her back. She gasps loudly as the angle of his cock changes inside her. He wraps one arm securely around her body, anchoring her to him, and fucks her slow and deep, dragging noises from her with every thrust. Her head falls back to rest on his shoulder and it’s like he’s everywhere, the pungent smell of sex making her feel heady. She feels so taken care of, and it strikes her that that’s a little ironic considering he was just spanking her a moment ago. But as his cock drags against her inner walls, her mind goes blank and she feels completely under his spell.

He brings his other hand up to her jaw and turns her head so he can kiss her, their tongues stroking each other’s fiercely. Lydia has to break the kiss to breathe, her head sharply thrown back to his shoulder as her back arches in pleasure. He slowly moves his hand down, skittering along the soft skin of her stomach before pressing his fingers against her clit.

“Lydia, you close?” he asks, and she can’t even form words at this point; she’s so completely overtaken by lust. She tries to move her head in a nodding motion but it mostly just comes off as trembling and shaky breathing. He starts rubbing her slowly in concurrence with his cock moving inside her and she feels like her brain’s going to explode. She needs release.

“Stiles,” she moans and the muscles of her stomach ripple, she’s not even coming yet but she can already feel the intensity of her impending orgasm.

He presses his mouth directly to her ear and murmurs in a low voice, “Lydia, come for me.” That alone could’ve pushed her over the edge but his fingers get faster and more precise around her clit and she feels every nerve in her body jolt. Lydia screams out as she comes and she can’t even feel the floor beneath her knees anymore, she feels like she’s floating. Stiles moves the arm around her up to fondle her breast and moves his other hand to her hip so he can fuck into her harder as he follows her into orgasm.

Stiles groans loudly as he empties himself into the condom and runs his hands up and down her back lovingly when her body moves forward with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Lydia barely catches herself before she collapses into the floor of the hotel room. “Oh my fucking god, we’re gonna get thrown out.”

Stiles laughs hard. “We’re only here for the night, I think we’ll be okay.”

“Stiles, I was fucking screaming,” she mutters, pushing her sweat-damp hair back.

“Like a banshee,” he responds, ducking his head at the obvious joke.

“La petite mort for a reason then,” she quips and covers her face, sinking it into the floor like she’s hiding.

He laughs again and rests a palm on the hot skin of her ass. She hisses slightly. “Guess that’s one more thing to add to the mental list then,” and he bends down to press a feather-light kiss to one cheek.

“Yep, that was not where I thought this night was heading,” Lydia replies. “Wow though. I mean wow.”

“Glad to be of service,” he jokes.

“Seriously though, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Lydia, if my superpower is knowing exactly how to get you off, I’m okay with that,” and he runs his hand leisurely up and down her naked body.

She smiles giddily, “You know what? So am I.”

He laughs unabashedly, “Funny how that works.”

They’re quiet for a couple of minutes before Lydia says, “Stiles…” and he hums in acknowledgement, “I’m hungry.”

Stiles chuckles and stands up, disposing of the condom in the process. “Right, okay, I have a plan,” he says putting his underwear back on.

He strides into the bathroom and she hears him mutter ‘Ooh, nice tub,’ before water starts running. He brings Lydia back a robe and helps her to her feet before wrapping it around her and it makes butterflies flutter in her stomach, watching him take care of her.

“You should have a nice relaxing bath, use some moisturizer or whatever because I really don’t want you to be in pain when we’re back on the road tomorrow,” he kisses her chastely and nudges her toward the bathroom, “and I will go out and get us some food.”

“Ah, my hero,” she says saccharinely. Her tone turns sincere when she says “Thank you,” as she moves slowly across the hotel room.

“Happy to keep my lady properly cared for. Stiles Stilinski: Will fuck you and feed you. New Twitter bio right there.”

Her laugh trills against the bathroom tiles.

 

//

 

Stiles wakes before Lydia the next morning, the sky just beginning to get lighter before dawn. As the pale blue light gleams over her skin, he smiles lovingly. She is a dream come true. And one he thought for so long was unattainable. The night he was taken by the Ghost Riders, he saw the desperation on her face when she said she wouldn’t leave him, mirroring his reaction when he wanted more than _anything_ to get her out of Eichen. But hearing from Scott just how wrecked she’d been in his absence was shocking. He’d never imagined he would mean that much to her.

Somehow Lydia Martin, _the_ Lydia Martin, had fallen in love with him so deeply that she was able to achieve what should’ve been impossible. She subconsciously remembered him, she broke apart the universe to bring him back, and she knew even when she shouldn’t have known. It apparently took her less than a week to recognize the person she was missing was somebody she was in love with. And he hadn’t told her he loved her for her to say it back, he’d told her because it was the strongest emotion he had in relation to her. If she could remember that he loved her, she could remember him. It’s part of his DNA, loving Lydia Martin, it’s synonymous with who he is as a person. It has been for as long as he can remember.

He’s tempted to reach out towards her but the last thing he wants to do is wake her up. Stiles slips out of bed, quietly redressing in an attempt not to disturb her, and he grabs his phone, wallet and room key.

Stiles wanders the streets looking for breakfast in the early morning light and instinctively flicks on his phone, pressing his speed dial.

“…Stiles?”

“Morning Scotty,” he says cheerfully.

“Oh god, why are you doing this to me, it’s six thirty in the morning,” Scott whines.

Stiles chuckles, “Whoops.”

Scott sighs. “Nothing bad has happened right?”

He hums. “Absolutely not. Couldn’t be better, in fact.”

Stiles can hear the smile in Scott’s voice when he responds, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I’m just…I’m really happy, Scott. Wanted to share in the joy.”

“Couldn’t share in the joy with your girlfriend?”

Stiles smiles. “She’s sleeping.”

“Like most humans, yes.” Scott emphasizes.

Stiles exhales, awe creeping into his tone when he speaks softly, “Scott, she’s so beautiful. And smart. And sarcastic. And brilliant. And she loves me.”

He can practically hear him nodding in response, “She is, she does. I’m aware of this.”

“If I don’t marry this girl you need to kick my ass,” he says warningly.

“Sure, man,” Scott agrees, “But I feel like I should warn you that I’ll also kick your ass if you screw this up and propose too soon.”

“Damn it, you know me too well,” he mutters.

Scott’s voice is stern, “Stiles, just enjoy it. Don’t throw in any more unnecessary pressure. You’ve already got long distance to tackle.”

He grumbles slightly, “Yes, I know. I’m being a stupid, romantic idiot.”

“You’ve always been a stupid romantic idiot,” Scott mocks.

“Mean.”

“Considering that I’m taking the brunt of your annoyance, is there a particular reason why you’re deciding to let Lydia sleep instead of waking her up? Isn't she the prime target to be bugged by you?” Scott asks.

“Tired. Sore. Well fed. It’s a long trip buddy, she needs her rest,” Stiles smugly replies.

“I don’t need clarification on that, by the way. I can paint a picture from those words alone,” he warns.

“But Scott,” Stiles whines exaggeratedly.

“I love you but you gotta shut your mouth now.” Scott laughs.

“Love you too. How’re things your end?” he asks, suddenly realizing how much he’s going to miss being involved with everything at home, how much it’s going to suck being away from his best friend so much.

“Good. Relatively normal. I picked up more hours at the clinic, UC Davis is very happy that I’ve been working towards a career goal for so long,” he says cheerfully.

“Proud of you,” Stiles replies, a grin breaking out on his face.

“Thanks. Look after each other okay? I know you’re used to doing that, but you’re kind of my favorite people, I need you happy and alive,” Scott says seriously.

“Blame the woman who leans out of car windows and tries to initiate car sex dude, not me!” Stiles laughs.

He can practically hear Scott rolling his eyes, “Yes, because you don’t encourage her at all, Stiles!”

“Bye Scott!”

 

//

 

When Stiles gets back the sun is just rising properly and he lets himself into the room quietly before noticing Lydia isn’t lying in bed anymore.

He puts breakfast down carefully, his feet leading him over to the windows where Lydia’s outside on the balcony, soaking up the sun rays from the bright sunshine. She’s leaning against the railing, his plaid shirt wrapped around her body, and her bent posture causes the very edge of her pale pink panties to peek out from below the hem of his shirt. Her hair looks almost golden where the morning light hits it and he thinks she’s truly never looked more celestial than in this very moment.

Stiles reaches quietly for his phone and has to hold his breath so as not to disturb the moment, even though it’s unlikely she’d hear him. He opens his camera and takes about a dozen photos, determined to preserve this memory. When he’s done he quietly walks out onto the balcony and wraps his arms around her waist comfortably. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She hums happily and continues to watch the changing colors and the sun moving slowly in the sky. “Hi, where’d you go?”

“Got some breakfast. Had a chat with Scott,” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head.

“At this hour? That poor boy,” Lydia says sympathetically.

“Yes, I’m a terrible best friend,” Stiles quips, leaning forward to press his head alongside hers.

She rubs her head against his. “But a wonderful boyfriend,” she declares, her tone sweet.

Stiles pauses for a moment, his heart thumping loudly over how sure she sounds, how content she is with him as her boyfriend, “Why thank you. I didn’t realize afterglow lasted that long,” he jokes subtly, downplaying her compliment.

Lydia sighs, disgruntled, “I loved you before we slept together, Stiles. I would still love you even if you didn’t, how you so eloquently put it last night, ‘fuck my brains out.’” She puts her hands over his arms and grips them hard with her fingertips, trying to force him to listen to her and take the meaning behind her words seriously.

She turns around in his arms and gives him a slow, sensual kiss that leaves him a little breathless. Lydia brings one of her hands up to his forehead and rubs her fingers tenderly along his hairline before massaging his scalp, trying to soothe his thoughts. His hands naturally reach for the bare skin where his shirt falls open on her and he caresses her stomach with his thumb.

Lydia pulls away with a sweet smile that positively glows in the morning sun. “What’s for breakfast?”

Stiles returns her gaze. “Freshly baked pastries, still warm, and there’s fruit too. Also orange juice.”

“Mmm. Okay, breakfast, shower, back on the road.”

Stiles twirls a lock of her hair around his finger. “Time for some nookie in that plan?” he asks humorously.

Her eyes narrow, “Don’t call it ‘nookie,’” she chastises. “And that’s what the shower’s for,” Lydia beams, walking back inside the hotel room.

“I bow to thee!” Stiles calls out, following her.

 

\--

 

 

If I Lose Myself – OneRepublic

_I woke up to see,_

_With all of the faces, you were the one next to me_

 

_If I lose myself tonight_

_It’ll be by your side_

 

Lydia wakes up early the morning she’s due to fly back to Beacon Hills, her body naturally acclimatized to rising with the sun because of the early starts they’ve made during the road trip.

She can feel Stiles’ warm skin wrapped around her body, and the thought of not waking up to this everyday makes her heart heavy. Today is the day she leaves Stiles. She’s going home without him and she likely won’t see him until after she starts MIT. Even though there’s nowhere she feels safer than in his arms, she can’t lie there waiting for the time to tick away so she gently removes herself from them.

Lydia wraps one of his plaid shirts around her body and settles herself cross-legged at the end of his dorm bed, bright sunlight filtering in through the curtains. She grabs a small sketchbook she carries with her and a drawing pencil, pops a headphone in and gets to work.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there sketching Stiles, intent to capture his peaceful expression, the slope of his nose, his elegant eyelashes, and the moles littering his skin, reminding her of when she studies the stars in the night sky. Lydia feels like she’s falling more in love with every stroke of the pencil, her breath catching in her throat sometimes when she looks at him.

Despite the many romantic movies she’s watched during her life, in particular _The Notebook_ , which at one point she was watching on a weekly basis hoping and wishing for a love story like it, she never truly imagined she’d have it. She thought she’d have to mold herself into a specific shape in order to have that fantasy life. It wouldn’t be real. It certainly wouldn’t be gritty and dangerous and terrifying. It would be false. Pretty Lydia Martin would find love and get married. It would probably be to somebody rich and strikingly handsome but ultimately narcissistic, vapid and _boring_. She’d have to hide the parts of herself that were too smart, too sarcastic, too cutting. She’d never allow him to see her fragility or the pain behind her eyes from too many horrors.

And then there was Stiles. Who always saw through the façade, was equally sarcastic and who inspired and believed in her. And he loved her, unapologetically, absolutely and honestly. He wouldn’t cut himself on her edges. Instead, his broken pieces would fit together with hers like the most beautiful mosaic. They could make something exceptional and above all, real.

She feels so blessed that she got him so early in life. She knows the way their lives are that she may not get decades with him. Something could happen to him, something could happen to her, something could happen to both of them. But she has him now, and that’s what she’s focusing on.

Eventually, Stiles subconsciously reaches for her beside him and he begins to stir when he can’t find her. She smiles softly as his eyelids flutter open and his gaze finds her at the end of his bed. Lydia keeps drawing.

“You left me in bed alone on our last morning together?” he whines slightly, a pout on his face.

Lydia’s voice is serene when she says, “Technically I’m still on your bed Stiles. You haven’t been left.”

Stiles continues to pout. “I wanted to wake up with you in my arms.”

She hums in understanding. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

“What’re you drawing?” he asks, intrigued.

“You,” she replies simply, her eyes not leaving the page.

His eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see?” he questions, excitement creeping into his tone as he rubs his lips together.

Lydia makes a noise of objection. “Not yet.”

Stiles nods imperceptibly, “Okay. Can I move?”

“Sure. I’m in the closing stages. I can work from memory,” she says nonchalantly.

He pauses for a moment, “You’ve memorized my face?” he asks in wonder.

Lydia looks up, locking eyes with Stiles, the corners of her mouth twitching up, “You’re my boyfriend,” she says as if reminding him of this fact. “I’ve known you for years. This is neither the first nor the last time I’ll draw you.”

“Oh,” Stiles utters, slightly stunned. There’s a small smile on his face as his fingers toy with the edge of the bedcover bashfully.

She looks back down at her work and says meaningfully, “You’re very aesthetically pleasing, Stiles.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes. “Did you just call me hot?”

Lydia chuckles. “Beautiful was more in line with what I was thinking. But hot works too.”

“Nobody’s ever called me beautiful before,” he says, thoughtful.

Lydia’s heart pulses, tears prickling behind her eyes. “That’s a shame. You deserve to know it.”

Stiles rests his chin on his hand and watches her, love-struck. “That’s how I always felt about _you_. Somebody should’ve been telling you that you were beautiful every day. Whoever didn’t…well. He didn’t deserve you.”

She smiles and ducks her head down, her cheeks bursting with color. “I know that now,” she says softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

He smiles contently, warmth coursing through his body. “God, I don’t want you to leave,” he breathes out, brow furrowing.

Lydia subconsciously presses a little bit harder with her pencil before she realizes what she’s doing and lays it down on the page gently. “I don’t want to leave,” she answers quietly.

Stiles reaches for her and she pushes one of her legs out from underneath her, straightening it out so he can wrap his hand around her ankle. “Hearing you say that is music to my ears.”

She sighs. “At some point you’ve got to get used to the fact that I’m in love with you Stiles,” and she wiggles her toes.

His eyes come up to fixate on hers before he utters “Never” so earnestly it makes goose bumps rise on her leg.

Lydia chuckles softly. “Please do. I don’t want to still be convincing you when we’re forty.”

Stiles grins. “You want to be with me when we’re forty,” he singsongs teasingly.

“Stiles!” she berates.

“I can’t _stop_.”

Lydia smirks sinfully. “If you want to fuck me one more time before I leave, you’d better.” And even though nothing’s changed, it suddenly feels like the hand around her ankle is scorching her skin, burning where they’re connected.

His eyes widen and he brings his hands together in a begging motion. “Oh god, I do. I definitely do.” His hands rest against his lips for a moment before they fall away. “Come here already.”

She shakes her head a little, “Nuh-uh,” and she purses her lips. “You go and clean your teeth, I’ll finish this.”

Stiles jumps out of bed, his hands placed over his heart in an expression of adoration, “Mmm, bossy. I like it,” he quips as he backs away to the door. Lydia winks in response.

 

//

 

When Stiles returns, Lydia is stood in front of his bed wearing just his plaid and her underwear, the skin of her collarbone on show where the plaid hangs to one side. She has a moderate degree of bedhead and the sunlight is hitting her skin, making her look ethereal. He’s so in love with this woman— it fills every cell of his body.

Lydia smiles alluringly as she toys with the buttons on his shirt she’s wearing and he springs into action. “Fuck.” The expletive escapes from his mouth as he rushes at her, he tears his shirt off her, the buttons making a popping sound as they’re ripped away and tumble to the floor. She gasps. Stiles grabs her by the ass and growls into her mouth as their lips meet hungrily, tongues immediately dueling in a display of pure lust. He lifts her into his arms and Lydia wraps her legs around his waist in a fluid movement. “God, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats against her mouth as he carries her over to the (nearly empty, thankfully) desk and places her on it.

His hands move from her ass to the edge of her panties, dragging them down her legs with ease and tossing them behind him. Lydia’s caught breathless by the intense hunger on Stiles’ face and she grips at his upper arms. Her hands are forced to move down his arms as Stiles sinks to the ground in front of her. He grabs Lydia’s thighs, pulling her to the edge of the desk and immerses himself completely in her cunt. He licks zealously up and down, lapping at her growing wetness and Lydia moans loudly, her hand coming up to grasp the back of his head, tangling in his hair and she tugs the strands hard. Stiles groans and the vibrations cause Lydia’s back to arch in pleasure, her thighs tightening helplessly around his head.

Stiles focuses his attention on her clit, flicking his tongue rhythmically and every so often closing his lips around it and sucking. “Oh god, Stiles. Stiles, it’s so good,” Lydia nearly sobs out. He changes tactic and sinks down, thrusting his tongue inside her while his nose rubs against her clit. He’s completely surrounded by the intoxicating heat, scent, and taste of Lydia Martin, and his desire is primal. He’s going to take as much of her as he can get before she leaves. He’s determined to remember the taste of her on his tongue for weeks.

Lydia cries out, she’s so close but she needs him inside her to get her there, and she needs him right now. She wants to remember her walls fluttering around his cock during all of the lonely nights in Beacon Hills in her future. She moves one hand to his jaw, the other still in his hair, and hauls him upwards, a displeased noise escaping his mouth. He rests in front of her breathing heavily, his lips shining with her juices as his eyes dazedly meet hers. Lydia closes her lips around his softly, tasting herself on his mouth. “Fuck me, Stiles,” she urges against his lips. “Fuck me so hard I can still feel you on the other side of the country.”

Stiles nods, and reaches down to grab her upper thighs, her legs spreading wide as they rest over his elbows and he pulls her flush against his body, entering her in one swift movement. Lydia nearly screams, her nails clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure overwhelms her. It’s like every inch of her skin is burning and branded with Stiles’ name. “Shit, you’re so hot,” he murmurs before smirking wickedly, “Remember what you said the first time we did this?” he whispers into her ear.

“If you expect me to be capable of remembering anything right now you’re grossly underestimating how much I love your cock,” Lydia admits, her speech hurried and broken up by loud gasps, her eyes closed in pleasure as he thrusts into her.

“Lydia.” He says it like he knows a secret and she’d be determined to make him tell her what it was if she wasn’t so damn distracted right now. “Hold on.” And she flashes back to the first time, her hands instinctively joining around the back of his neck. “Good girl,” he says and it makes her pussy clench around him.

Stiles grabs her ass and lifts her off the desk, still buried inside her. He maneuvers them a few steps away and presses Lydia against the wall and it clicks into place for her. “Oh. That,” she breathes out as her body sinks down onto his shaft a little more thanks to gravity.

He moans, and everything feels a little slower, more sensual, here. Stiles’ fingertips dig into the flesh of her ass as he thrusts up into her. Lydia’s body is forced up and down the wall as he moves against her—  she’s completely at his mercy, her body wholly under his control but she doesn’t feel vulnerable or weak. She still feels at her most powerful when Stiles is by her side. Her moans get higher and higher in pitch, as her breasts bounce along with his thrusts where they’re straining against the confinement of her bright pink bra. Stiles buries his face in her chest as their bodies move in harmony. He mouths at the juncture between them, biting down first on one and then the other as Lydia mewls in response.

Stiles presses himself closer to her, using the wall to aid his movements. He pulls one hand away from her ass, inching her leg slightly higher where it’s resting over his arm and curls his arm around to massage her clit. He presses his mouth against her neck, sucking harshly before he moves up to her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “Lydia,” he moans huskily, “if you want me to come inside you, tell me now.”

Lydia feels her brain short-circuit; she hadn’t even realized until that moment that they’d been fucking without a condom. It wasn’t a problem, she was on the pill, but they’d never done it before. It strikes her that the reason she hadn’t noticed is because it feels so natural, like he belongs inside her, and goddamn it, she wants him to come. She reaches her hand down to his hip and pulls him towards her, forcing him deeper and they both moan loudly. “Yes.”

Stiles groans, hurries his movements against her clit and unleashes, thrusting hard and fast. Lydia sees stars, her walls clenching furiously around him as she comes, her cries loud as they bounce off the surfaces in his dorm room. He lets her leg fall away from his arm and brings his hand up to wrap around her jaw, and they moan into each other’s mouths, unable to stop long enough to successfully kiss one another properly. Lydia can feel him coming inside her for the first time and it drags her orgasm out longer, her knees going weak.

As they come down they both sink to the ground. Stiles sits on the floor, his back pressed against the wall with Lydia perched on his thighs, her knees bent and her feet resting against the floor beside him. Her head is pressed into the crook of his neck and she’s laughing softly. Stiles’ favorite sound is probably the little giggles she lets out post-orgasm as the endorphins rush through her body. ”You good?” he asks, stroking her back.

Lydia presses some light kisses to his neck and jaw. When she stops and pulls away, he looks at her smiling face and her hair a tangled mess. “Hmm,” she ponders sarcastically, “Am I good? Let’s think about that, shall we?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“Good boy,” she murmurs. “So... that was new…” 

Stiles hums in agreement. “Didn’t plan for that, exactly. You were okay with it though, right?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Well, it was pretty _great_ , actually. I just haven’t done it before,” she explains.

A part of him is pleased at that information, that they’re sharing something she’s never given to any other man. “Okay. So it’s an option now?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” she confirms. They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Lydia sighs, “Stiles, we need to start getting ready,” and she runs her hand against his side comfortingly.

Stiles’ head drops like he’s physically in pain and unable to hold it up any longer. “I know,” he mumbles, like he’d rather do anything but face up to the reality of the day. He pulls her closer for a moment, kissing her on the top of her head sadly before they remove themselves from their bubble.

 

\--

 

 

Many Lives – Andrew Belle

_I’m just getting used to this_

_My fingers are arguing over which_

_One of them gets to climb down your wrist_

_Introduce themselves to yours first_

 

_My heart's speeding up so I think that we should take it slow_

_Oh no, I_

_Think we should try to see just how far this thing can go_

_Oh oh_

 

Lydia clutches at the fabric of his jacket, her hand creasing the material in her strong grip. “I love you,” she says simply, pressing her forehead against his as she tries to hold on to the moment as long as possible.

“I love you too,” he responds, his hands on her waist. He doesn’t want to think about what they’ll feel like when she’s gone, when he can’t touch her when he wants to anymore, can’t kiss her, can’t hear her voice. What did his hands do before they held Lydia Martin?

She sways her head a little against his, “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before she straightens up.

Stiles takes a deep breath, “I have something for you,” he begins. “I don’t know if you’ll want it or if you’ll think it’s stupid, sentimental crap or whatever but I just…”

“Stiles, shh shh,” she soothes him. “Don’t talk yourself out of whatever you’ve done before you know what I think, okay?” Lydia smiles softly. “I love you, remember? Whatever you’ve done, I’m not changing my mind.”

He exhales in relief. “Okay. Yeah, okay. I just…I don’t know what to say.” Stiles reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, he holds it like it’s fragile, and pushes it towards Lydia like he’s handing her his heart. “Here.”

Lydia’s eyes widen, her jaw dropping slightly as she reaches for the box. “What the fuck, Stilinski?” she mutters, some anger seeping into her voice.

Stiles eyes widen similarly. “Oh my god, no,” he says in fear. “I mean, yes, of course!” he enthuses, “Eventually. But no, this isn’t…that.” His hand comes to rest on the wrist of the hand that’s holding the box. “I’m not proposing,” he clarifies.

She lets out the breath she had been unknowingly holding. “Thank god. Because we’re too young for that.”

He nods profusely, “Yeah, definitely.” Then, less convincingly: “That would be bad.” Stiles clears his throat. “No, open it.”

Lydia stares down at the box, opening it slowly and is confronted by a pretty ring. It’s silver with some rose gold accents. There are small diamonds spreading out in twisting lines from the center stone. “It’s-“

“Your birthstone, yeah,” he interrupts eagerly.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers in awe, her eyes glistening.

Stiles smiles gently. “I was wandering around while you were in the mall picking up toothpaste and stuff and I saw it in a window display. And just…I wanted you to be able to look down and think of me. Remember our trip. Remember us.” Stiles pauses, uncertainty taking over his expression. “It’s probably dumb.”

“Not dumb,” Lydia asserts. “Wonderful, you’re wonderful,” she insists, her voice full of emotion.

He leans forward and kisses the corner of her mouth chastely. “I also missed your birthday, because I didn’t exist at the time, so consider it a late birthday present.”

Lydia takes the ring out of the box confidently. “Best birthday present ever,” she announces, sliding the ring onto her finger and she wiggles it happily.

The breath is almost knocked out of him when he realizes how similar this moment could be to a future proposal, what an engagement ring would really look like on her finger. “I really don’t want you to go,” Stiles mumbles.

“The sooner I go, the sooner I come back,” Lydia suggests, bringing her hand up to his cheek and he can feel the cool metal of the ring pressing against his skin and his eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

Stiles protests, “That’s not true at all. The longer you stay, the less time I have to wait to see you again,” he leans down and captures her lips in a deep kiss.

Lydia hums, “See ya Detective Stilinski,” she flirts.

His eyes glint in interest. “Well now I have to succeed just to hear you call me that more often,” he quips.

She presses her hand to the warm skin of his chest just below his neck, desperate to feel his skin touching hers in their final moments. “Work hard. It’ll be a good distraction.”

“Won’t be the only thing that’s hard either,” he grins cheekily.

Lydia rolls her eyes, “Ha ha.”

“I try.”

“That’s what’s sad,” she mocks.

Stiles places his hand over hers, “Ouch. Maybe I won’t miss you so much after all.”

“You will though,” she says knowingly.

Stiles solemnly replies, “Yeah.”

Lydia nods. “I’ve got to go.”

“I know.”

“I’ll call you when I land,” she promises as his hand comes up to her cheek, brushing his thumb along her skin like he’s trying to memorize the way it feels.

He kisses her forehead. “Please do.”

She brings her hands to either side of his head, thumbs on his warm skin and fingers in his hair. “One. Last. Kiss.” Lydia says, but punctuates each word by kissing first one cheek, his forehead and then his other cheek respectively. She pulls him towards her and he greedily accepts her lips. It’s a long, deep kiss, one they should feel bad about sharing in public, but it’s an airport, and they’re just like any other lovers separated by distance saying their goodbyes here. Every time Lydia’s about to pull away, Stiles draws her back in, continuing the kiss as long as he can like he’s been stumbling through a desert for days and she’s his oasis.

They finally pull away and Lydia takes a minute step back, their hands entwined. She needs to let go; she needs to be in control here because she knows Stiles won’t do it. “One more,” he begs.

She refuses to let herself give in, bending down to pick up her carry on. She squeezes his hand one more time, and forces her feet to move away from him. She’s coming back soon. This isn’t forever. “Bye Stiles,” she insists and smiles brightly, trying to mask her sadness. They’re still only just beginning. This isn’t an end. She won’t let it be.

“Gimme some sugar, woman!” he pleads, and Lydia laughs loudly as she continues to back away, shaking her head. Stiles feels like she’s taking his heart with her.

Lydia raises her hand, the one with her new ring twinkling as it catches the lights of the airport, and blows him a kiss before waving goodbye. He smiles and holds his hand to his heart, watching her until the very last second when she disappears out of view.

 

//

 

Upon Stiles’ return to his dorm, he shakes off his jacket and throws it onto the back of his chair. Just as he’s about to crash onto his bed he notices something lying on his pillow, and walks slowly over to the head of the bed, his hand reaching out to pick it up. Stiles exhales shakily as he studies the drawing; the same one Lydia had spent so much time on that morning. It’s like he can feel the love she has for him through the care and detail. He’s never seen himself through her eyes before but he likes what he sees. There have been so many times when the demons inside of him have built up until he didn’t even recognize himself anymore. He wants to always be the man Lydia saw when she drew this.

Stiles notices pencil marks bleeding through the paper and turns it over.

 

_I try to make sense of this_

_Cause my lips are starting to make a list_

_Of all of the things that they seem to have missed_

_Before the day that they met yours_

 

_And I hope there’s enough for you_

_Cause my love is bleeding and slightly bruised_

_You be the page and I’ll be the glue_

 

_I think we should try to see just how far this thing can go_

 

A tear leaks out of Stiles’ eye as he finishes reading the lyrics, and he wipes it away before it falls onto the paper. He smiles cheerfully and takes a pin, placing the drawing on his new board. Stiles sinks onto his bed, and leans down to inhale the pillow she’d slept on last night, her scent still clinging to it. He misses her already.

He takes out his phone, grabs his headphones and scrolls to the latest addition to the playlist, closing his eyes as he thinks about Lydia as the lyrics she’d copied wash over him.

When she calls him later that night after her plane lands he has to physically choke down the words ‘ _Marry me_ ’.

**Author's Note:**

> (The excerpt of the Neruda poem Stiles recites to Lydia is called 'Carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon')
> 
> If you liked it please leave a comment because it would make me the happiest person ever!
> 
> I do have ideas for a sequel so that might happen at some point. There are things I wanted to originally include in this fic but that were pushed back because this seemed like a good place to stop.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://hartmaddox.tumblr.com/).


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